#You should see the nightwing tag once in a while

[ahqkas]

♯BOY TROUBLE ( how would the batboys react to you mentally adopting damian wayne ! )

— gn!reader, established relationship ( dick & tim — separated ) , fluff, not edited, based on this req.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

it all started the moment you met the youngest wayne. a misunderstood boy who just needed to be a kid for once in his life? yeah, he’s in your care now

whenever damian has competitions — be it fencing matches, art exhibitions, or even a spelling bee he had unwillingly agreed to participate in under the pressure of his annoying teacher — you’re the first to make sure his support system is solid. you firmly believe no child should perform without someone rooting for them and you are all for the opinion

you’d clear your schedule to make the time for the boy, no matter how busy things got, and even often dragging your boyfriend, dick, along with you, even if he was juggling nightwing duties in between

“you will take off for this. your little brother deserves to see you in the audience.”

your enthusiasm is literally unmatched. damian rolls his eyes and grumbles, “tch, stop embarrassing me,” but secretly, he glances at you during breaks and feels a strange warmth knowing someone is so invested in his hobbies / competitions and not just his skills / training :(

when the competition ended in a win ( “that’s my champion up there! gold medalist, damian wayne!” ) , you were celebrating with him like it’s the olympics, insisting he picked the restaurant for dinner as a treat

for the rest of that night, the three of you indulged in the finest fast food gotham had to offer with you and dick gloating over damian while the boy quietly basked in your praise. though he’d never admit it, the celebration made the medal feel just a little more special

when damian gets in trouble at school — whether it’s a “misunderstanding” as they call it or him actually calling a classmate an “insufferable peasant” — you refuse to believe your sweet boy could ever be at fault

you’d march straight to the principal’s office with dick in tow ( he was kinda forced to come with you ), arms crossed, ready to advocate and defend the boy’s side. “let me get this straight. you’re accusing damian of initiating this? he doesn’t need to; his vocabulary alone could bring your students to tears.”

dick has to hold you back with how expressive your language becomes, and damian just stands there and watches you with a mix of amusement and silent admiration, although he would never admit the latter

damian often snaps at his brothers or throws a sarcastic jab that cuts too deep with his tongue that’s as sharp as his katana. and of course you’re quick to defend him

the second jason storms off muttering about how “the demon spawn needs a leash” or tim fires an insult of his own, you’re already positioning yourself between the brothers ( while taking the youngest’s side )

even dick gets the full treatment of facing your wrath. if he ever reprimands the boy too harshly, you gently interrupt, pulling damian aside later to reassure him. “your brothers don’t always get you, but i do. they’ll catch up eventually.”

you’re not above spoiling him in subtle ways, especially knowing that your boyfriend & his brother never had someone like this when he was damian’s age ( he kinda had bruce, but the older man was too busy with his own problems sooo )

you sneak art supplies and books into his room because you know about his interest toward art and animals. “oh, these? they were on sale. don’t think too hard about it,” you say, but the price tags tell a different story ( it was dick’s debit card so who really cares — more like bruce’s but oh well !! )

you’re also constantly pushing dick to spend quality time with his younger brother. “go take him to the arcade or something. he needs these memories with you.”

speaking of art, you keep every piece of artwork damian makes — no matter how small or nessy— like it’s a rare portrait. most of those pieces end up on the fridge in the apartment you share with dick, attached with mismatched magnets you buy in every new country you visit

the first time he noticed, it was a simple pencil sketch of titus he’d left on the counter when he visited ( ran away from gotham ). he’d been practicing shading and hadn’t even meant for anyone to see it. when he walked into the kitchen and spotted it on the fridge one day, neatly pinned beneath a sunflower magnet, he froze. “what is that doing there?” his voice was sharp but his cheeks tinged pink

“it’s your drawing.”

yes, he can clearly see that

“it’s just a sketch.”

“maybe to you,” you said, finally meeting his gaze with a soft smile, “but i think it’s perfect.”

he didn’t respond, just muttered something under his breath and walked away, but the next time you looked at him, you caught him stealing a glance at the fridge with a subtle, almost imperceptible smile

in your eyes, damian might be the fiercest, sharpest little warrior in the world, but he’s still a kid who needs love, support, and the freedom to grow. and you’re determined to give him everything he deserves

. . . TIM DRAKE !

it was the same as dick’s, damian wayne had you wrapped around his little finger the moment your eyes landed on him.

whenever the boy has a competition — whether it’s an art showcase or even a science fair — you’re the one who’s planning to make sure his support squad is in place ( forming you and your boyfriend, tim drake )

“tim, clear your schedule. i don’t care if bruce called a meeting or gotham’s on fire. damian’s science fair is tomorrow, and we will be there.”

there’s no point in arguing with you

the moment you hear about the science fair, you are immediately all in. of course damian protests about how he doesn’t need your help. he’s completely capable of doing some stupid project

“i know you are, but every great scientist needs an assistant. think of me as your alfred in this situation,” you hoped the slightest mention of alfred, his father’s personal assistant would make damian less grumpy but from the way he shot you a glare you knew your attempt was screwed ( not for long )

over the weeks leading up to the fair, you help him brainstorm ideas that are in balance with his advanced brain work and appropriate for his age group. damian initially suggests a DNA-splicing project but settles on a robotics demonstration when you gently redirect him with how the school might frown upon genetic experiments ( he tried once and by the end of his presentation, the teacher called bruce )

when the winners are announced and damian takes first place ( because of course he does) , you practically jumps out of your seat, clapping and cheering louder than anyone else. tim chuckles beside you with a teasing smile etched on his lips, “you’re more excited than he is.”

back at home, as you help him unpack his supplies, damian quietly hands you the certificate he received. “you should keep this.”

“damian, this is your award. why would i keep it?”

“you helped,” his reply is dry and all you get before he disappears into his room

he gets into trouble in school sometimes, and you absolutely refuse to believe that your damian could be at fault

whether he got into a fight, talked back to a teacher, or made some kid cry with a sarcastic comment, you’re pretty convinced it’s all a big misunderstanding. “he’s such a sweet boy, he wouldn’t do something like that unless provoked.” ( sureee )

you drag tim along to the principal’s office and the sight of you looking like damian’s legal guardians creates a funny picture. “are you seriously telling me that a kid who can quote shakespeare off the top of his head is starting childish banters?”

and when damian mouths off to tim or the rest of the family, you always jump in to defend him

“he didn’t mean to call you incompetent, tim. he’s just expressing himself in his unique way.”

“you can’t expect him to adjust overnight, jason. he’s been through a lot.”

tim often raises an eyebrow at your behavior towards his younger brother. “you do realize you’re coddling a kid who could take out a grown man with his bare hands, right?”

who cares, tim, look at the drawing he just made!!

you let him ramble on about his pets, especially about batcow’s care routine or the meal preferences of alfred the cat

damian “accidentally” leaves drawings of you on your desk, and when you thanks him, he dismisses it as “just a sketch”

in your eyes, damian isn’t just tim’s little brother—he’s yours, too

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Workplace

Next Chapter

Pairing: Dick Grayson/Nightwing x (f)reader

Tags: NSFW, secret identity, vigilante reader, office romance, fingering, kissing, biting, wounds, penetration, slightly toxic Dick Grayson,

"Holy shit, y/n?" A gruff voice called your name from across the police station. You turned away from your papers and in the direction the address was coming from, meeting a bloodshot wild gaze of a man who looked around your age. You didn't recognize the man, who was currently being escorted into a cell.

You didn't respond, assuming he confused you with someone else. He called you again, though. "Y/n! It's Spencer Van! We were in the fifth grade together-"

You met his crazy gaze again, raising your brow in question.

"Ms. Strums class!" He added.

You blinked, recalling the name of your fifth grade teacher. You began to recognize him. And your mouth twisted in disgust. You didn't remember much, other than him being a piece of shit; bullying the smarter kids, and constantly interrupting your teacher during class. Not someone worth remembering.

Your grimace didn't deter him, though, as his gaze slowly studied you up and down. You began to regret your earlier decision to discard your blazer when his gaze landed on the undone top buttons of your blouse.

You hated going to the police station for this exact reason. The staff were nice, but the people they brought in... different story.

"Damn," Spencer groaned, his tongue sliding across his teeth. "You grew up gorgeous."

The blood drained from your face, and you felt nauseous. Now definitely swallowing bile. Detectives and staff were looking between you two as you took in a steadying breath and tried to avoid glaring at him.

"You like me like this?" Spencer continued, grinning a dirty, crooked smile and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "You like seeing me in handcuffs?-"

Before he finished his sentence, he was brutally shoved into the cell. The sound of the slam echoing throughout the station.

The detective who shut him up, Dick Grayson, stood towering, muscular, and gorgeous in his uniform, and your secret crush on him only grew. Grayson barely broke a sweat while Spencer bounced off the wall and was now wheezing, struggling to get back up.

"You son of a bitch-" Spencer choked. "You fucking broke my rib!"

"Yeah?" Dick challenged. "Press charges after you're done serving ten years for drug trafficking. Prick." Then he slammed the cell door shut.

The rest of the room fell back into routine, the sounds of phone calls, walkies, filing papers, and conversations filling the air once more.

Grateful for the change in pase, you returned to your documents.

"Ms. L/n, are you alright?" A low masculine voice you instantly recognized spoke behind you. You turned to see the detective. Sharp features and ocean-colored eyes pierced through your thoughts, catching you off guard. Your breath hitch at his size towering over you, while the smell of beachy cologne invaded your senses. His uniform hugged his body so well that you could almost see the defined muscle under the material.

"Yeah, thanks for shutting him up." You stammered, your shoulders rising slightly.

"Im sorry I didn't do it sooner." He frowned, his gaze flicking to Spencer, who still groaned in his cell.

You gathered your files. "Should we sit down to look over the Falcone case?"

"Yes, right." Dick gestured for you to take a seat at his desk. It was the only one in the room that wasn't covered in a million papers. Just his computer, a notepad, pen, and calculator lined up against each other in a tidy order, with a half finished cup of coffee sat on the corner. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?"

You shook your head. "Is there somewhere private we can talk?" Then, at his raised brow, you rushed to add. "I'll need to share some sensifitive information."

He nodded in understanding and got up, leading you down the hall. Your heels clicked behind him as he opened the door to a meeting room lined with shelves. A single table and two chairs sat in the middle of it, illuminated by warm toned lights. The noise died down as he shut the door before pulling out your chair for you to sit.

He spoke up as you sat down. "Late nights at the DA's office, huh?"

You blinked, trying your best to look confused, also trying to cover the blush on your cheeks. "N-no. Why do you ask?"

He shrugged, offering you his signature joking smile. "According to our email exchanges, you were originally supposed to come here yesterday. I was just curious why the last-minute change. I've got a very busy schedule today."

"Im sorry," you shook your head, rushing. "I just... I wasn't feeling well."

"Oh no." Dick said, his brow creasing.

His tone of worry hid a chuckle that was desperately trying to escape. You were such a bad liar. "I'm glad you're feeling better then."

"Yes, well," you took your seat, pulling out a series of photographs from your folder and placing them on the table for him to see. "Falcone met with the owner of MacKenzie Buildings in his club two nights ago."

Dick made a big show of studying the photographs, which he took himself two nights ago. "Hmmm."

You continued. "Yesterday, as you know, MacKenzie was found dead in his apartment."

Dick nodded along to your words, picking up a photograph to study it closer before frowning. His brows furrowed as he looked at the picture. "How'd you get these? Did you hire a P.I.?"

"Not exactly." You lowered your voice, eyeing the locked door behind you.

When you turned around, his blue gaze was narrowed at you. Questioning.

"I'd like to keep the source confidential."

Two nights ago.

"I need to go use the ladies' room." You spoke over the music before getting off your date's lap. He grinned and nodded, barely acknowledging you as he was distracted with a pair of women dancing on a tabletop.

You matched with the man on a hookup app an hour ago, suggesting this club to meet up, and he was more than happy to go - probably thinking he was going to get lucky.

In reality, it was just a cover.

As soon as you walked off the main floor, you headed for the back of the club and out to an alleyway behind the building. Unwrapping a bandana from your wrist, you tied it around your face, hiding all of it, save for your eyes.

Taking quiet steps in your combat boots on the gravel, you grasped at the bag slung across your shoulder as you spotted your opening. With a running start, you jumped up, grabbed onto the ladder, and began to climb.

Nightwing followed you for the fourth week in a row. This time, your escapades brought you to Falcone's nightclub, with some creep who wouldn't stop running his hands over the open back of your corset top. Dick had half a mind to knock him out there and then each time you stiffened from his hand, brushing your skin.

Wearing an all-black outfit which helped you blend in, you hiked your makeshift mask covering your face. You used the railings to scale your way up the roof with practiced ease. Either gymnastics or calisthenics - if Dick had to guess. Either that, or the mandatory self-defense classes at Gotham Law had incorporated parkour into the syllabus. Brushing his chin with his fingers, he perched casually on a nearby rooftop.

Silently lifting yourself up and positioning yourself on a rooftop that overlooked a large window, behind which Falcone and his men were gathered around a table. Dick watched you pull out a camera from your bag and begin to snap pictures. Like you were some kind of private investigator.

Dick watched patiently. He's seen you do this several times now. He was curious where this was heading this night.

Silence and the howl of wind replaced the club’s thumping bass, and for a moment, you felt utterly alone - until you heard the faintest shuffle above.

Instantly, you rolled out of the way just as a fist came down to the spot where you just were. You got up, hid your camera in your bag, and assessed the assailant. Only one. Good. That you can handle.

You dodged the following blow as well, dropping to your hands and swiping your leg under both of his, knocking him off balance. He went down fast, and you took out the taser you always had in your pocket, bringing it to his neck and activating it until his body began to shake. You held it long enough for him to pass out. Then, you held your hand to his neck, making sure you found his pulse, ensuring he was still alive before you walked on, taking your camera back out.

As you continued snapping the pictures, what you didn't see were the two other bodyguards approaching you on the roof.

Good thing Nightwing did.

Out of nowhere, you were grabbed around your waist and flung onto a higher up rooftop, and away from the meeting. "Hey!-"

"Quiet." A deep voice orderer in your ear.

When you two landed on another rooftop, you stumbled and caught yourself on the rubble. You turned around, facing your new assailant.

Momentary shock took over as you were met with THE Nightwing. The protector of bludhaven, glowering down at you with a disappointed look under his mask.

"Nightwing!" You choke out.

"The one and only." He confirmed.

You've never seen him in person, never mind standing inches away from him. Your initial shock wore off to make room for anger of your own. "Look... thank you for saving me, but I don't need your help."

He smirked like you just made a joke, then gestured behind you, tilted his chin. "Turn around."

Tentatively, you turned and faced the street, away from him.

"Look down, down at the alleyway." He said. "See those guys patrolling outside the club with their M16's?"

You strained your eyes, trying to see what he was referring to. "No..."

"Exactly." He came to stand side to side with you, taking something out or his utility belt and holding it up to you. Upon initial inspection, you concluded it was a lens of some sort, and you brought it up to your eye. The lens did show a pair of bodies walking back and forth behind a brick wall. Heat sensors.

Embarrased, you handed him the lens. You took a breath, steadying yourself under his intense gaze. Heart pounding, you wondered why his presence felt just as dangerous as comforting.

"It sucks. Doing what I do. Not everyone can." He said.

"I'm not trying to do what you do." You defended yourself. "I'm no vigilante."

"Why do you need these pictures?"

You follow his gaze down to the camera clutched in your hands. "That's confidential,"

He then stood face to face with you. Or rather, face to chest with his frame dwarfing you. "Are you a P.I.?"

"No." You huffed, hoping your raised brow will stop any more questions. "Thank you for saving me. See you around." Then you hopped down the rails and to the ground.

You pushed open the door to your apartment, stepping in still in your club clothing. The corset top was dirty and pulled out of your leather tights, which tore at some point during your escapades, and your feet were in immeasurable pain from walking in those boots all night. You were tired as you tossed your keys into a bowl and locked the door.

A man cleared his throat behind you. "So this is where you live," Nightwing stepped into your living room.

Your voice hitched, and you jumped, rushing to switch on your lights. You stumble over your heals and nearly fall. He caught you around your waist and stabilized you.

"What were you doing at Falcone's club?" He asked, eyes searching your apartment.

"Did you follow me?" You asked, tone incredulous.

"Didn't have to," he pulled up a piece of paper and held it to you.

Your eyes widened. "Is that my car insurance?"

"Mhmm," he nodded, walking to your kitchen and flipping through the papers on your counter. "Pro tip: when you go on patrol, don't bring ID. Otherwise, the mask becomes obsolete." He grinned and picked up an envelope. "Ah cute, your children's hospital donation went through."

You snatched the envelope from his hand. "Give me that! And get out of my house!"

He tisked and shook his head. "Not before you tell me when you were doing following Falcone."

"I- I already told you-"

"You told me fuck all." He interrupted. "Now, I know exactly who you are, miss. L/N I know everyone you've ever met and how to find them. Easily."

He stalked closer, the shadows of your dimly lit room casting sharp angles on his face. “Now ill ask you one more tim. What were you doing at Falcone’s club?” His voice was low, the threat behind it unmistakable, and for a moment, you wondered if Nightwing was as dangerous as the people he fought.

You gulped, straightening your neck. "Look, nightasshole-"

He snorted.

"You're breaking and entering." You continued. "I could call the cops on you."

He grinned, wondering if he should let you, only for his phone ring when you dialed. Then, he set the idea aside. "That building you were on when you were snapping your pictures belongs to Falcone. You were on private property without permission. I'm sure a lawyer would know what the name for that is,"

Your shoulders sagged as you lowered your gaze. "Trespassing."

"Very good." He said. "So go ahead and place that call, y/n." He shrugged. "Tell them that Nightwing, identity unknown, address unknown, broke and entered into your house." You approached you, his tone sharpening. "Meanwhile, I'll place my own call. About Y/n L/n, from apartment 2a on 21 Nelson rd. For trespassing on Carmine Falcone’s private property. We'll see how long you get to keep your license."

Your eyes widened in shock. Would he really ruin your career over this? And all of a sudden, the mantle of "protector" became subjective in your mind. You swallowed nervously, regarding him with unease.

In a sudden move, you raised your knee, aiming straight for his groin, hoping to take him by surprise.

He was way ahead of you, and he dodged your knee along with the follow up attacking from your punches and kicks.

You were backed up against the wall, one of his hands easily held both your wrists above your head.

"Cute," he murmured, his voice mockingly soft, as though you're struggling amused him. "Should I be insulted that you think you can fight off Blüdhaven’s ‘protector’? Those defense classes they make you lawyers take get worse and worse each year -"

You collided your forehead with his nose.

"Shit!" He swore, then huffed a laugh, raising his free hand to wipe at the trickle of blood trickling from his nose, and looked down at his hand. The distraction you hoped for wasn't effective as you struggled against his hold, which was rock solid.

"I think you broke my nose." He said as a matter of factly. "How's your head?"

"Fine!" You snapped at him, fighting to keep your vision from blurring at the edges. That was the wrong angle to use, you thought, cursing yourself for forgetting the lessons you got from your self-defense training.

"Yeah?" He sounded doubtful. "Not throbbing anywhere? Like over here," he gave a gentle tap to your temple.

"Ow!" The point he pressed shot excruciating pain throughout your head, and your vision blurred even more.

"Yeah, valiant effort on your part." He commented, his voice growing more and more muffled as you struggled to... to...

He snapped his fingers in front of your eyes. "Hey, hey, no. No falling asleep. You gave yourself a concussion."

"Get... out of my home," you slurred.

"Can't do that either." He sighed. "I'd be leaving you for dead." He grinned. "That wouldn't be very heroic of me."

Well, this is certainly the most creative way he had to keep a woman up all night, Dick thought to himself, bringing the smelling salts up to your nose.

"Ah, christ!" You exclaimed, jerking away from the violent stench. "Why do you even have these with you?"

"You'd be surprised how often head injuries can occur in my line of work." He explained, putting them away. "I've had to keep myself awake after a lot of brawls."

You nodded, eyeing him wearily. It was so odd how casual he was acting about this entire situation. You felt like you were a prisoner in your own home, with him as a friendly warden.

"How's your nose?" You asked, your hands rubbing your temples to try and ease the pain.

"Eh," he shrugged, looking at his reflection on your phone. "I've had worse."

He demanded on staying until he confirmed you were better. When the throbbing stopped, he did a quick assessment of your vitals using some kind of gadget you've never seen before.

The following afternoon, you came back to a package resting on the pile of mail on your kitchen counter.

There was a note on top, scrawled in sharp, hurried letters: "Thank me later."

Suspecting who it might be from, you carefully turned the folder over, spilling its contents—a stack of photos showing Carmine Falcone in a close conversation with Owen MacKenzie, the owner of MacKenzie Buildings.

Present Day

"Let me guess," Dick said, arms crossed as he leaned against his desk. "You’re suggesting there’s a connection between MacKenzie’s death and his meeting with Falcone."

You nodded. "Just speculation for now, but it’s no secret Falcone’s been after those developments. I think he made MacKenzie an offer he didn’t like, and the next day…"

Dick’s gaze narrowed, his fingers tapping idly against the edge of his desk. "So, what do you need from me?”

"You have access to the autopsy report," you replied, leaning forward. "If we can prove it was murder we can keep those properties out of Falcone’s hands.”

He studied you, scratching his head. "That’s making a lot of assumptions."

“Which is why I came to you,” you pressed, holding his gaze.

He raised a brow, lips quirking in mild amusement.

"If we’re right, we could keep dozens of families from getting pushed out onto the streets," you said, more earnestly.

After a long beat, Dick sighed and nodded. "I’ll see what I can do."

Later That Night

Either that concussion affected your memory, or it dulled your self-preservation instincts, Dick mused as he watched you. He couldn't fathom why you kept diving headfirst into life-threatening situations.

You climbed the scaffolding at an abandoned construction site, slipping past rusted barriers until you reached the eighth floor. Perched on a narrow ledge, you crept toward a makeshift office in the corner. Little more than a desk and chair surrounded by half-finished walls. Kneeling, you pulled out a lock-picking set and made quick work of the drawer, glancing over your shoulder once before opening it.

A low chuckle sounded behind you. "Not a shred of self-preservation in that cute little body."

You jumped, heart pounding, and spun around to find Nightwing leaning casually against a support column, arms crossed over his chest.

"God," you muttered, trying to steady your breathing, "I thought you were a -"

"Bad guy?" He chuckled, tilting his head. "What exactly would you have done if i was?"

"Maybe tase you," you shot back, turning back to sift through the documents in the drawer.

In two strides, he was beside you, looking over your shoulder at the papers. "What are we looking at?"

You glanced up at him, momentarily struck by his proximity. It took a beat too long for you to refocus, the sheer size and quiet intensity of him throwing you off balance.

"I’m looking for a ledger or a blueprint - anything tying this site to MacKenzie."

Nightwing raised a brow. "The project’s been transferred to Falcone. Announced just this morning."

"Do you believe that?"

He sighed, arms crossed. "Alright, trouble. Enlighten me - what’s your theory?"

"You really need me to spell it out?" you asked, arching a brow.

He smirked. "You think Falcone’s behind MacKenzie’s death."

You nodded. "A friend in Blüdhaven is working on getting me his autopsy report, and - "

"Oh, a friend?" he interrupted with a teasing tone. "Must’ve gone through all the right channels to get that, yeah?"

You frowned. "Of course."

He leaned in, the playful spark still in his eyes. "You know, a real friend would’ve gotten it for you just cus. No questions asked."

You stifled a blush, hoping your mask hid the heat rising in your cheeks. His gaze softened as it lingered on you, just a shade too long, his lips curling in a way that made your pulse quicken.

You were overcome with a need to defend Dick after Nightwing’s comment. "He's more noble than you," you said.

And oh god, if the irony alone didn't make Dick want to burst out laughing. Pull yourself together, he said to himself.

"Did anyone ever tell you." His voice was lower now, softer. "You have really pretty eyes."

Thrown off, you glanced away, muttering, "Just… let me know if you see anything with MacKenzie’s name on it."

A low ding from the far end of the floor interrupted your sentence. You both froze, watching as the elevator doors slid open, and heavy footsteps echoed into the hollow silence. You quickly locked the drawer and put everything back in place.

Before you could even react, Nightwing’s arm was around your waist, pulling you back toward the edge of the building. He fired his grappling hook to the floor above, tugging you both up to safety. His hold on you was firm yet controlled.

Landing, you were acutely aware of every inch of him pressed against you, his gaze unreadable as he raised a gloved finger to his lips, signaling for silence. You swallowed, pulse racing, unable to tear your attention away from the solid, unyielding warmth of him beside you.

"Destroy every file on that table," a voice ordered. "Burn it all if you have to. I don’t want any trace left of his fingerprints here."

Your eyes widened. Proof that MacKenzie had been involved after all. You looked up at Nightwing, who nodded, clearly understanding the gravity of the moment.

The voice spoke again, sending a thrill of hope through you. "And make sure they do the same over at the south location. We don’t need loose ends."

Your eyes met Nightwing’s, urgency clear in your expression. There was still a chance to get evidence.

The smell of smoke drifted up from the floor below, mingling with the crisp night air as flames started licking up from the table and chair. You looked at Nightwing, panic flashing in your eyes. He didn’t move until the elevator dinged again, signaling the men’s departure.

"We need to get to that second site," you whispered, barely able to contain your urgency.

Nightwing’s gaze hardened, his earlier playfulness replaced by a steely resolve. "I need to get there. You’re going home."

"But-"

"No buts," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You want to help these people? Stay out of sight and leave the dangerous work to me. Trust me. This is my city."

For a moment, you considered arguing back, but something in his gaze warned you not to push him further. Instead, you gave a reluctant nod, allowing him to guide you away.

There was a knock at your window.

You look up from your phone, already ready for bed in your pijama shorts and tube top. You see his outline through the glass as you aproach the window, already half-expecting bad news as you open it cautiously. You are met with Blüdhaven’s protector, leaning on the rail of your balcony, clutching his side, blood seeping through the cracks of his suit.

"Hey," he rasped, short breathes coming out of cut lips with a pained smirk as he raised a USB. "Got your evidence."

"You’re bleeding," you said, your voice a mix of shock and concern.

"Only a little," he grunted, but when he stumbled, you caught his arm, guiding him inside before he collapsed entirely. "You should see the other guy."

He helped you remove the top of his suit, leaving him bare to his hips. You tried not to linger too much on the ridges of hard-defined muscles lining up his chest, arms and stomach - it was a challenging endeavor.

Your hands moved carefully as you cleaned the gash on his side, trying not to let your worry show. "You should’ve gone to a hospital."

"They ask too many questions," he said with a wince but tried to smile. "And I’d rather have you play nurse."

Huffing, you rolled your eyes, but his words sent your pulse racing. You could feel his breath close to your cheek as you look down, the faint brush of his gloved fingers against your arm as you worked.

"Ive got a first aid kit. One moment." You said, getting up and bringing the white box that was kept on the top of your bookshelf. You've had some practice stiching up wounds back when your little siblings would get scrapes on the playground. You even wanted to be a doctor when you were a kid. Before you decided studying law was more interesting. Especially in a city like Bludhaven.

He drew in a gasp as you carefully threaded the needle, stitching up his wound. Finishing up, you placed a gauze bandage around the affected area, tisking. "You should still go get it checked out."

His fingers gently wrapped around your wrist, making you look up at him. Your eyes flickered to his, and for a second, wondering what color they were behind his mask.

“You dont need to worry about me,” he said softly, his fingers coming to play with the hem of your crop top. Your skin tingled where his touch brushed you. "But... I like that you do."

His words hung in the air, and your pulse raced as his gaze dropped to you lips, then back to your eyes.

“We shouldn’t-” you started, but before you could finish, his hand slid up under the back of your shirt, his warm fingers sending tingles along their path.

“I know,” he whispered, but then he pushed you towards him, lips pressing softly against yours.

Your hand moved to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. You took a moment to orocess the fact that you were kissing a stranger. It coukd be anyone under that mask. The need to know clawed at you.

"Nightwing?" You asked.

"Yes, trouble?" He wispered, lowering his lips to lay kissed down your neck.

You felt your cheeks warm as your shoulders rose. "D-do you do this often? Sleep with people you save?"

He grinned then, nipping your earlobe as his hand, covered in calluses and scars reached around you, pulling you onto his lap. Gasping, you could feel his hardness on your silk shorts.

"Only when they take such good care of me." He asnwered, grinding up against you, brushing your sensitive clit in the process. "You know, to return the favor."

You gasped and he repeated the movement a few more times, until you were riding him still separated by your layer of clothing.

"You're gonna open -" You wimpered when a particularly long brush of his Dick sent a powerful sensation down your core. "-Your stitches. This... this isn't a good idea."

"It's a good thing you're here to fix me up then, isn't it?" He challenged, an evil grin playing at his lips.

You moaned and shook your head, still trying to think logical. "It will hurt."

"It hurts more not being inside you now, trouble." He wispered- no, whined- as his lips brushed your ear. "Please, put me out of my misery."

His finger slipped under your shorts and between your folds. "Fuck-" He caught his lower lip between his teeth, the bit leaving a beautiful read mark on his gorgeous lips. "You're so wet, trouble."

Unable to look away from him, you whimpered as his fingers brushed your insides.

"I dont even know who you are," you wispered in disbelief, more so to yourself than to him. "I don't even know your name,"

A small, curious part of him wondered how you'd react if he pulled off his mask and presented you with the very same face that's been working with you this past week at the station. Your "good friend" detective Grayson.

"I'm no one," he said instead.

A minute later, his suit was discarded on your carpet, along with your pijamas, as the two of you gasped and writhe against each other on your couch. You were riding him, the feeling of him filling you up was extacy. And his view provided him with an image of you panting on top of him, red lips parted as your hair fell in messy stands around your face and shoulder. "Trouble," he moaned. "You're so fucking sexy. Oh my god."

"Thanks, you like... a seven." You joked, then squealed, arching your back as he rose and bit your collarbone, driving into you hard.

"For that," he growled, a wolfish grin playing on his lips as he eyed the new bite mark forming on your skin. "I'll keep you up all night."

"Y/n?"

You looked up from your computer to see your co-worker standing nearby, balancing a cup of coffee and a stack of files. She offered you a shy smile.

"Detective Grayson from the station is here for you."

"Oh, thank you!" you replied, quickly standing and smoothing your skirt and blazer. Nearly tripping in your heels, you mentally scolded yourself for coming to work instead of calling in sick; you could’ve used more sleep.

At the front entrance, Dick waited in uniform, coffee in hand, his usual bright smile already in place.

"Good morning," you greeted him with as much energy as you could manage.

"Morning," he replied, grinning. You couldn’t help but wonder what he put in his coffee to always look so chipper.

He held up a folder. "Here are the autopsy reports you asked for."

Your eyes lit up. "You got them? Amazing!" Taking the folder, you looked up at him gratefully. "Thanks, Dick."

"Happy to help," he said, dimples appearing as he smiled down at you. "I’ve got to get back, but let me know how the case goes, yeah?" He turned toward the elevator, giving you a casual wave.

"I will! Have a great day!"

As you watched him leave, someone cleared their throat behind you. Turning around, you found Lily standing there, a slightly nervous expression on her face.

"Hey," you said slowly. "Is everything okay?"

Saying nothing, she took your arm gently and lifted her phone, angling the camera so you could see yourself in selfie mode.

Your hand shot to your mouth in shock.

Clear as day, a bite mark peeked out from your collarbone. "Oh god."

You felt your face heat up as realization hit. How many people had already seen that? And oh god! Dick definitely saw it too!

Meanwhile, in the elevator, Dick allowed himself a small, satisfied grin.

[fearcvlt]

I JUST SAW YOU REBLOG NIGHTWING ART. PRETTY PLEASE I’LL BEG I NEED A NIGHTWING DRABBLE !!! ive been plotting for this >:]

okay just let me turn him into a whining mess i swear i’ll be good just let me make him cum all over my hand and his stomach thats all im asking-

note. MARSHIEEE !! omg yeah i love nightwing so bad... and you're so real, he needs to be whimpering in my ear STAT. saw this the second it came through and IMMEDIATELY got to work so... here's a lil drabble :3 tags. nsfw, mdni. handjob. sub!dick. cum + spit as lube. overstim. kinda soft dom!reader. no use of y/n.

"Fuck," Dick whines, hips bucking desperately in an attempt to get more friction against his aching length. You'd been teasing him for ages now. His cock is all leaky and swollen, the tip flushed red. He's achy and needy, fingers clawing at the sheets desperately in an attempt to adhere to your no touching rule. "Baby, please... I need... need more."

You only hum in response, twisting your wrist as you reach the head of his cock, thumb teasing his slit briefly before your hand drags back down. He looks so pretty like this — dick shiny and slick with spit, dark hair clinging to his forehead and spreading out behind him as his head lolls back against the pillow once more. There's a glimmer of wetness in his eyes for a brief moment before he's squeezing them shut.

"Nuh-uh." You chastise softly, clicking your tongue against the back of your teeth as you pause your movements, hand stilling at the base of his cock and giving it a soft squeeze. "Eyes on me, Dick."

He whimpers softly at the tone of your voice, cracking his eyes open once more. His gaze is heavy — half-lidded and desperate as he meets your own. A full-body shudder runs through him when you pump your fist with renewed vigour, shaky gasps and moans spilling past his parted lips. Dick's muscular thighs begin to tremble, his fat cock twitching in your grasp as his abdomen starts tensing up.

"C'mon, baby. Cum for me." You coo, free hand sliding along his upper thigh slowly until you reach his balls. You grasp them gently, rolling them in your palm.

"Fuck. Fuck, oh my fucking God-" He gasps, eyes widening as he writhes under you, thick, hot spurts of cum shooting from him, making a mess of his stomach. His tip is leaky, his seed drooling down his length and over your fingers. He slumps against the bed for a brief moment before you start pumping your fist again, spreading his cum over his still sensitive cock.

"Baby?" He chokes out, a gasp getting caught in his throat. He gives you an alarmed look, writhing under you and pushing against the mattress in an attempt to get away. It's helpless — he's still weak and boneless from his orgasm, mind hazy from being teased for so long. He chokes out a sob, weakly reaching out to push at your wrists.

"Too much, s'too much." He manages between deep breaths, humourless laughter bubbling up in his chest from how overwhelming the sensation is. He's halfway between laughing and crying, unsure if he should fuck into your fist or try desperately to get away.

"Shh, shh. It's okay. You can take it right? Just a little longer, baby. That's it. That's my good boy."

"N-no. Noooo, oh my god. Oh my god, I fucking hate you." He half-laughs, half-whines, hand falling again to fist the sheets beneath him while he squirms and twitches under your ministrations.

You stop when you see a few tears slip down his cheeks, leaning over him to kiss them away from his cheeks. He's still shuddering, panting as he attempts to catch his breath. You reach up to carefully card your clean hand through his hair.

"You okay, Dick? Wasn't too much, was it?" You ask after a moment of comfort.

His next words, though they come out slightly hoarse, give you all the confirmation you need. "I'm so getting you back for this."

[wingsoffirenames]

Welcome to the Wings of Fire Names account!

Don't know what to name your new OC? Need to name a minor character in your story? Wanna just browse for fun? Whether it's that or anything in-between and beyond, this blog is here to help.

"What is the purpose of this blog?"

I've been stockpiling names from all over for a long time, and wanted to reorganize my list when I realized that this is something that can help people, so this blog was made for the purpose of helping people find names for their WoF OCs, or anything else they might want them for. I have collected thousands as it is so hopefully there will be something here for everyone.

"Run me through how it'll work!"

First things first, I will run through all the names I already have. However afterwards, I will allow suggestions for new ones, and I'm always finding new ones myself, so there will hopefully be frequent additions!

Posts will be separated by first letter of the name and by tribe. I will also include hybrid names! Tribids and others my be a possibility in the future, but I am not doing them just yet. Alongside each name will be a small explanation for it! Each post will contain 50 names unless it's more efficient to include more or less for that post. Here's examples of how it will look:

Green (The color green.)

Aquamarine (A Jewel, and a shade of blue.)

Conure (A type of bird.)

That is how the lists will be structured! Also as a note, NightWing names will be separated into one word names as well as prefixes and suffixes that you can mix and match, better replicating their unique naming manner. After all the names from my initial collections are cleared, add-ons/updates (whatever you'd like to call or think of them as. Just new names I find, really.) will come whenever I feel like I have enough new names to in my eyes warrant one, and those posts won't be separated by letter except for in the tags, but will continue being separated by tribe. The letter separation is just to make clearing out the initial lists smoother because I have so many. Once I run out of names (since it's likely going to happen at some point even if I don't foresee it being particularly soon), I might be open to helping people with other aspects of their OCs such as personalities or appearances, but we'll have to see what happens whenever that point is reached.

Posts will be tagged with the general fandom tags, as well as with #[tribe] names (hybrids will be marked with each individual tribe then #[tribe/[tribe] names, twice for both positions), #[letter] names, then a variety of tags for themes. I will at some point make a masterlist for theme tags and any other tags that need it, so sorting will be as easy as possible, and these lists will be linked here when they're made. Any other posts will be marked as #not names. Questions regarding the blog are tagged #qna. That should be all, but I'll edit this if new tags are added.

Suggestions will be taken through the inbox, and will get posted individually unless I have an upcoming batch I can place them with. You can suggest as many names as you want per message. This should hopefully account for the entire structure and roadmap for this blog, but feel free to also send in any questions, comments, concerns, etc you have about anything! I'll post as frequently as I can, but note that it can take a while to clean up my lists fully and annotate them!

That should be all for now but if any new information comes up it will be added here.

"Tell me about the blog runner!"

I go by Michelle, use she/her, 20 years old. You can find my main account in the blog description. I love the silly little dragons a lot and like stated previously I enjoy collecting names and want to share them! I don't know if anyone else has done this before but either way I'm just doing this for fun. Surprised nobody took this URL yet! The blogs theme is Queen Moorhen literally just because I like her a lot lol. Feel free to ask if you have questions!

Have a good day!

[fanatic564]

My English Teacher is a Zombie! (BatFamilyWeek 2025 Day 7)

AO3 link

Fandom: Batman All Media Types

Rating: Teen

Warnings: No warnings apply

Relationship: Jason Todd & Dick Grayson

Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Original Characters

Tags: batfamilyweek2025, batfamily week day 7, Age Regression/De-Aging, purposeful de-aging, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Jason never confronted Bruce, batarang incident never happened, Jason Todd is Red Hood, english teacher Jason Todd, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, de-aged Dick Grayson, body small but brain big, aka his mental capacity doesn't change but he turns into a teenager, Damian Wayne is Robin, Tim Drake is Red Robin, both only mentioned in order to establish a timeline, Zatanna shows up speaks one line then disappears into the night, identity reveal, reunion, no beta we die like Jason Todd, Do not post to other sites, Cross-Posted on tumblr, POV Third Person

Summary: Dick is sent on an undercover mission to weed out moles for Red Hood's gang in Gotham Public High School. He's not too happy that the mission calls for him to be de-aged to be a teenager and a student at the school. That attitude changes when he discovers just who his English teacher is.

AN: I… couldn't think of a good title for this so have a meme.

Not sure how I feel about this one, but I hope ya'll enjoy.

Day 7: Legacy | De-Aged | The Batcave

~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce sits in his office, staring down Dick on the other side of the desk. Dick wants to fidget at the stare, but holds himself back.

"Why'd you ask me to come here, B? Got a case for me or something."

Bruce grunts. "Or something."

Dick raises his eyebrow. "Your tone makes me think I'm not gonna like whatever you got for me. Should I bow out now?"

Bruce doesn't respond. Instead, he slides a manila folder across the desk for Dick to analyze. Dick picks it up and starts to read.

Ok. Undercover operation. Dick's not a huge fan of those, but it's not a deal breaker. The mission is in response to a large number of drug dealers winding up dead around Gotham. Pretty standard so far. Dick skims a little, trying to get the gist of the case now while vowing to read it more thoroughly later.

Lets see, dealers sold to teenagers, suspected Red Hood involvement, high concentration sold near Gotham Public High School, Dick's cover would be-

Hold on, what?

"B have you officially lost it? You want me to go undercover as a high school student?" Dick stares at the older man in shock. "You could have picked literally any of your other kids and they would make a more convincing high schooler than me."

"You are the best pick for this mission. Currently, Tim is on a business trip and it would be too suspicious to pull Damian out of Gotham Academy to send him to Gotham High. Duke and Steph are both busy with college, and I know you haven't found a new job since leaving the force. Additionally, you are the most high energy and sociable. This mission requires someone who can talk to both students and staff at the school."

"And just how do you expect to work around this?" Dick gestures to his body. His clearly adult, thirty year old body.

"I have already contacted Zatanna regarding a de-aging spell."

Dick gawks at Bruce. "So not only do you expect me to act like a high school student, but you want to turn me back into a teenager? Please. At least tell me I'll be able to go back to normal after school hours."

Bruce shakes his head. "That would put too much strain on your body. A more semi-permanant solution is advised, one that we can reverse once the operation is concluded."

Dick groans. He has a feeling he's going to hate this mission.

~ ~ ~

"Nruter mih ot htuoy!"

~ ~ ~

A sixteen year old Dick Grayson sits in the family room of the manor. There's papers spread all over the coffee table in front of him as he looks over his notes one last time before he has to leave.

He reviews the basics in his head as he goes.

A string of deaths involving drug dealers who were later revealed to have sold to children. This itself isn't unusual for Gotham. Red Hood, a crime lord in Crime Alley for almost five years who made a name for himself by killing Joker, is known for not going easy on those who hurt kids. No, the unusual bit is how many of these dealers made attempts to sell to Gotham High students right before their deaths.

This implies that someone in the school has a way to contact Red Hood and is likely a part of his gang. Dick's job is to determine who it is and try to get information on Hood from them.

Dick himself has interacted with Red Hood a few times over the years, while out as Nightwing. While the man definitely has a tendency for violence, he's got a good head on his shoulders. He has morals on who he kills, only those he feels are truly unable to be redeemed. And Dick won't admit it out loud, but he's grateful the man killed the clown. Jason can rest easy knowing his murderer is finally put down for good.

So, Dick doesn't mind working with the man and he knows Tim doesn't either, despite Hood's obvious dislike of the boy, as unwarranted as it is. Bruce, on the other hand, thinks the man is too dangerous and must be apprehended immediately. Hence, this mission.

"Master Dick" Alfred calls to him from the doorway. "It is almost time for school. Gather your things and make your way to the car please."

Well. Here goes nothing.

~ ~ ~

The day starts out good. Really good in fact. Dick, sorry, Joshua "Josh" Peterson charms his way up the social ladder fairly quickly. (Dick wants to roll his eyes every time he hears the name.) Math, Science, Spanish, and Gym all fly by as Dick seamlessly introduces himself to those around him and starts up conversations. By fifth period lunch, he already has a couple of students to sit with and talk to.

"What do you have the rest of the day?" One of them, Chris, asks him, leaning over to look at the paper schedule Dick has on the table beside his lunch.

"Uh…" Dick checks the paper, as if he didn't have it memorized days ago. "It looks like Art next, followed by History and ending with English."

"Oof, English last period? Who do you have?" The other student, Izzy, replies. "Hopefully not Mrs. Baker. She's a fucking bitch."

"It says here 'Todd Peters'" Chris lights up at his words.

"Yo, Mr. Peters is great! I have him last period too."

Izzy snickers. "Peters and Peterson, huh? Sure he's not your dad?"

"You both have black hair and blue eyes." Chris teases in response. He pauses before continuing, "Well, blue-ish. His are more green, but still. It's possible."

Dick laughs. "If all black haired blue eyed guys were related, we'd probably all be hoarded by Brucie Wayne by now."

The other two laugh and they all finish eating their food just in time for the bell to ring.

~ ~ ~

Dick lets Chris walk with him from History to English class so he 'doesn't get lost'. Of course Dick has the layout of the building memorized, down to the air vents in the ceiling, but Chris can't know that.

Chris holds the door for him when they get there. "After you."

"Why thank you." Dick says dramatically as he walks through the door. Only to stop in his tracks at what he sees. He feels something collide into his back.

"What the- dude you good? Don't just stop in the middle of the doorway!"

Dick doesn't hear him. He's too busy staring at the man at the front of the room. Dick can only see the side of his face as he writes something on the chalk board, but what he sees is so familiar.

There's differences. This man's fluffy black hair has a white streak peaking out from the front. He's an adult, tall and bulky, nothing like the scrawny kid Dick envisions. He's missing scars that should be on his face and arms, and yet… The rest is uncanny. His face shape, his posture. It's all so goddamn uncanny that Dick can't stop the words from slipping out of his mouth.

"Little Wing?"

The man freezes before jerking his attention to Dick, chalk slipping out of his grasp in his shock. His eyes burn into Dick and well, that's another difference he supposes. Dick watches as the man's teal eyes quickly turn a toxic green as they widen. If Dick had any doubts about who this was before, his reaction all but confirms it.

Somehow, Jason Todd stands before him.

Chris clears his throat awkwardly. "Uh, Mr. Peters, this is the new student, Josh Peterson. Josh, this is Mr. Peters." He pushes past Dick, grabbing his arm as he goes by to lead him to the open seat beside his desk.

"Dude, the father-son theory just became a lot more likely, what the hell was that?"

Dick looks back over to Mr. Peters, to Jason, seeing the man is still staring straight at him.

"Uh… nothing. Just. He looks like someone I knew who passed away."

Chris's eyes gain some understanding before he pats Dick on the arm, leaving him be for the moment to sort out his feelings.

The late bell rings before Dick gets the chance to do that. The other students stare at Mr. Peters as they wait for him to begin the lesson. Noticing the stares, Mr. Peters snaps himself out of his shock. He starts the lesson, seeming all to the normal eye as if everything is fine. But Dick knows better. The man is tense, and every so often he casts subtle glances to Dick, as if checking to see if he's really there.

Dick pushes any thoughts about Jason to the back of his head. He's still on a mission right now, he needs to be keeping an eye on his classmates. He'll confront Jason as soon as school is over. (Thank God it's the last period of the day.)

That's the plan, at least, until the principal calls Dick to her office about five minutes before the bell rings. A check-in to see how his day went. How is he settling in? How are his classes? Before, Dick would have used the opportunity to gain the woman's favor while subtly gathering information from her. Now, he just hurries through his answers, trying to finish up as quickly as possible.

The bell rings and Dick grows impatient as the minutes tick on. Fuck. He needs to finish this now.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but my mom is waiting outside to take me to an appointment, so I really have to go."

"Oh dear. No worries, Joshua. Sorry for keeping you. I'm sure you have a lot you have to get settled from the move. It was a pleasure to talk with you and I hope you enjoy your time at Gotham High." Dick gives her a wave as he rushes out of the room. He darts through the halls, expertly avoiding any collisions as he makes his way back to the English room. By the time he gets there, it's over ten minutes after the bell. The hallways are basically deserted, save any students staying for extracurriculars.

He bursts into the classroom. Jason jerks up from behind his desk, his eyes wide once more. Around him, all of his desk drawers are open and he seems to be… packing? The bookshelves have already been emptied and he's in the process of dumping the contents of his desk drawers into a bag.

"Fuck" Jason mutters as he zips up the bag. His eyes dart between the door Dick is blocking and the second story windows on the opposite side of the room.

"Jason!" Dick cries as the man takes a step towards the windows.

"Listen, Dickhead. I don't know how you fuckers found me, or why you though it necessary to fucking. What? De-age yourself? Really? Either way, I'm out. Don't look for me."

"Wait, Jay, please. I don't know what you're talking about." Dick reaches his hand out as if trying to grasp Jason, to not let him leave him ever again. He takes a step into the room as he does so, only stopping when Jason takes another step backwards towards the windows. "I had no idea you were here. No idea you were alive." Dick pauses as he registers his own words. His next words come out almost in a whisper. "Why didn't you tell us you were alive?"

"You expect me to believe you're here for shits and giggles?" Jason spits, ignoring Dick's question. His eyes are back to that toxic green. "You think I'm that fucking stupid?"

"Oh course not!" Dick cries. He pauses only for a moment, wondering if it's worth it to blow his cover so quickly. Jason will always be worth it. "I'm here for an undercover case. You gotta believe me, Jay."

"Why you, then? Why not a different member of your little flock? Like the brat? Or my replacement? Why go through the trouble of de-aging you instead of getting one of them to come?"

"Why does it matter? Why does it matter why its me here, or what I'm doing here, or…" Dick's voice breaks as he continues. "Just, why don't you want us to know you're alive?"

"You all fucking replaced me, asshole." Jason's voice gets louder, and Dick really hopes no-one comes to check what the noise is. "I died, and before my body was even fucking cold, B had a new little bird to show off. Why the fuck would I want to come back when you all clearly didn't care?"

"No…" Dick's tone betrays his heartbreak at Jason's words. "No, you're wrong. We cared so much about you. We still care about you. Come home, Jay. Bruce will be thrilled to see you."

Jason scoffs. "Yeah fucking right."

"It's true. Bruce was devastated when you died. The only thing that saved him from that dark place was Tim entering our lives."

"That replacement had no right wearing a dead boy's colors."

"He tried getting me to go back to being Robin first." Dick says softly. Jason stares at him as the words register. "Tracked me down in Bludhaven, told me he knew who I was, and begged me to come back. Said Batman needs a Robin, otherwise he'll go off the deep end. Showed me reports and records of B hurting others and himself in his grief. I told him I couldn't, that I outgrew that role a long time ago. So Tim ended up taking up the role himself. We never wanted to replace you, Jay. If anything, I think Tim did everything in his power to honor you and your legacy. You were, you are, his hero."

Jason looks conflicted, his eyes switching between that toxic green and the teal that must be his new normal. He finally speaks up. "I've made a new life away from you all. One that Bruce wouldn't approve of if he finds out. Even if I wanted to come back, I can't."

"I'm sure Bruce would be fine with you being an English teacher Jay. In fact, he'd be ecstatic to see you're clearly doing something you love." And Dick can tell he loves it. Even as distracted as Jason was during his lesson in class today, Dick saw a passion in his eyes he remembers from when the boy would go on and on about books he read when he was younger.

"Yeah? And what's Bruce's opinion on the Red Hood?"

Dick freezes, a cold wave of shock crashing over him. He… did not expect that. Realizations flash in his head as dots connect in unexpected ways.

"You're… the Red Hood gang member I'm here to find." Dick watches as multiple emotions flicker rapidly in Jason's eyes. It starts as confusion, making its way to understanding before landing on acceptance. As he reaches that last point, his whole body slumps, exhaustion suddenly lining every muscle in the man's body. He plops back into his desk chair and slumps down.

"Just, come sit down, Dickhead. No use having this conversation all the way on the other side of the room." Dick gives a small, grateful smile as he makes his way to the chair on the opposite side of Jason's desk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

End Note: Chris, processing everything he just heard from outside the room, after he saw his new friend Dick Josh rush back after class was long finished: What the fuck? Why couldn't Mr. Peters have just been his father? Less complicated than this soap opera shit.

Whelp, here's my last piece for Batfam week. This one didn't go quite how I expected, but it was still fun to write. I kinda lost steam at the end, so sorry if it feels incomplete. I had more ideas I just couldn't figure out how to get them on the page. Maybe I'll do a follow up, maybe not.

Either way, I hope y'all enjoyed. Feel free to point out any mistakes.

[flamebringer0]

More About Nightwing Powers

I decided I had more to say about this post, so I reblogged it and wrote some more. It seems like when you do that Tumblr doesn't put the post into tag searches, so nobody can actually find it. I'm just going to copy the full text into a new post. I'm sorry if this spams anyone's feed, I just don't understand how this site works yet. I've never actually had a blog before.

-----

Ohhhh damn I just had another thought about this. This is my problem, I think about this stuff all the time and I keep coming up with new things I think are cool, but now that I've written all this out and published it for the whole world to see I can't change it so easily.

It's actually fine though. These thoughts are kind of a mix of things I think are canon but sufficiently non-obvious to be worth stating (All Nightwings have powers at hatching and then lose them), things that are definitely not canon but I feel like it doesn't mess with the story too much to change them (Prophets have a silver scale on their foreheads), and things that are ambiguous and I'm just filling in the blanks (fake Nightwing magic is based on their sense of smell). But there's a fourth category, which is things that I don't like about canon but changing them would basically entail writing a whole new story. I'm pretty sure this new idea falls into the latter category, so I wouldn't really have put it in that post anyway.

But let's explore the hypothesis that Tui T Sutherland and Scholastic collectively lose their minds and give me the rights to Wings of Fire, and also I have infinite time, resources and motivation to make my own adaptation of the story. Then what happens? Well, the first thing is obviously to change animus magic to be something other than total omnipotence, because omnipotent characters are the kind of albatross (tee hee) you don't want around your neck when you're trying to write a coherent story. And the second thing is to make it so the terrible Rainwing queens in book 3 are hereditary royalty and Glory is not, because I've never liked the valorisation of hereditary royalty in WOF (or in general), and that would be an easy way to subvert that. And THEN I would turn scavengers into lizard people, because I am a furry and I think that's cuter than making them humans. Lol.

But somewhere down the list would be the fact that I don't actually vibe with the idea that normal Nightwing seers/mind readers apparently have a built-in power limiter that varies randomly according to the specific individual, and the special gift you get for hatching under three moons is just to have that limiter set to 0. I don't like this because, first of all, the fact that it works like that just doesn't fit into my brain in a satisfactory way. Hatching under zero, one, or two full moons each results in a qualitatively different outcome, so in my mind, the third full moon should also do something qualitatively different. But it doesn't, it's just the same as two full moons but better. And then I'm left to assume that there are probably very rare cases of twice-moonborn Nightwings who have all the power, just because whatever secondary factors there are happened to line up in their favor? Weird.

But the more important reason is, I don't really like the idea of Clearsight as someone who has extraordinary power because she just hatched that way. Nor do I like the fact that the reasons for this are, on the one talon, unexplained (maybe inexplicable?), and on the other, not a function of who she is as a character. I think it would make for a much stronger motif if run-of-the-mill seer Clearsight were able to take down once-in-a-generation chosen one Darkstalker because she's diligent and doesn't believe in destiny while he's entitled and sure of his glorious future. At its core this feeling is actually the same thing as what I said about the Rainwing queens above: I just don't find it satisfying when the hero has some kind of special trait that makes them naturally better than everyone else. A villain can have that, but a hero I want to prove themselves through their own efforts. But that's explicitly not what happened in canon: Clearsight IS naturally more powerful than all the other seers, that's an essential part of her story, and changing it requires basically rewriting the books. I don't love it!

So anyway in the universe where I'm rewriting the books, here's a thought about how Nightwing powers might work. This partially contradicts what I wrote above, but I've decided I'm cool with that. I love contradicting myself actually, and maybe next week I'll contradict all of this again. There are no laws.

Some Nightwings are seers, some are mind readers, a few are both, and most are neither. But aside from the fact that an individual might or might not have these powers, they don't vary in strength from dragon to dragon. All seers have equally strong abilities, and all mind readers have equally strong abilities. But the strength of the abilities does vary: not per individual, but over time. Specifically, the current state of the moons affects the abilities of empowered Nightwings. On a hypothetical "darkest night" with three new moons, all Nightwings are effectively powerless. On the brightest night, empowered Nightwings experience the full strength of their abilities. Seers can easily look down many different paths into the distant future, and mind readers can easily examine any information in the mind of another dragon. Of course, the phases of the three moons are not synchronous. Most of the time, the moons are all in different states, and empowered Nightwings experience abilities somewhere in between those extremes.

Above, I said that the "strength" of Nightwing abilities doesn't really vary per dragon. Strength, as I use the term here, only refers to the raw potential to look into the future or into another dragon's mind. But different individuals do have different levels of adeptness when it comes to applying their abilities. On the brightest night, any seer can look with relative ease into the far future, down multiple timelines, examining subtle ripples of possibility. The rest of the time, most seers can't use their abilities on that level, but a particularly adept one can get closer. What makes one seer more adept than another? Well, it's really just training. If you're someone who, for whatever reason, keeps looking into the future, over time you'll get better at it, just like anything you keep doing. This is what sets Clearsight apart from her peers. She isn't more blessed by the moons than them, because no seer is more blessed by the moons than any other. Clearsight just looks into the future all the time, to a degree nobody else does. She works harder on her visions than any other seer, so her abilities are more advanced than those of any other seer.

There is one exception to the maxim "no seer is more blessed by the moons than any other". The special gift of the thrice-moonborn is that they are exempt from the cyclical waning and waxing of power with the phases of the moons. They hatch on the brightest night, and its power soaks into them and becomes permanently part of them. And so, they live as if every night is a brightest night. They always have the potential to see the ripples that spread into many distant futures, and they can always pluck any information they want out of another dragon's mind. What other Nightwings may train and train for, these dragons do as easily as they breathe.

There are few Nightwings who never dreamed as dragonets about what it would be like to have hatched under three full moons. How different their lives could have been from those of the common powerless Nightwing, or even ordinary seers and mind readers! And not just directly because of what they could see: the thrice-moonborn are almost inevitably beloved by their tribe, showered with attention, and elevated to the highest strata of society. Wouldn't that be nice, think the dragons who could have walked that path but for something as meaningless as the sky under which they hatched.

It's unsurprising that many covet that life, but it's not entirely as pleasant as they imagine. The adulation that surrounds the most powerful Nightwings is instrumental. As laid out in excruciating detail just behind the eyes of smiling dragons, few love them for who they are; many more love them for what they are. They will never have any interaction with friends or family that isn't fundamentally shaped by the asymmetrical power dynamic implied by their abilities. It's easy for a dragon in that situation to become profoundly isolated, especially without support. But the brightest night comes so rarely that most Nightwings who receive its gift will grow up with neither peers, nor mentors who can relate to these experiences. That many ultimately respond in unhealthy, self-destructive ways is a given; that the self-destruction of such powerful dragons often also destroys those around them is a recurring tragedy in the history of the tribe.

But it's not inevitable. No dragon's fate is actually written in the stars or sealed by the moons. It's always possible to choose a different future.

[ohanahoku-ao3]

Tag Game -Let's Get to Know Each Other!

I was tagged for this game by @whoviankendokaqueenbeewithbooks Thanks for the tag, these games are so fun! :D

Just a warning, I got a little rant-y in my answers. Please don't take them too seriously, I'm just passionately opinionated about some things. xD

Relationship Status: Single and Not Looking to Mingle ;P

Favorite Color: Blue! Love a darker, vibrant blue with a touch of turquoise in it specifically. <3 But every shade of blue is gorgeous!

Lipstick or Chapstick: Chapstick. I never wear makeup. It's too much of a hassle.

Song Last Listened To: Currently listening to a new song, Close Behind by Noah Kahan. But if you want to know the most recent song I've specifically selected to listen to from my playlist it was My Love is Sick by Madds Buckley. (It gives me such strong, angsty Nightwing vibes, definitely wanna write something based off it!)

Last Movie Watched: Mirror, Mirror. A much better Snow White than the current one. xD Not that it's a cinematic masterpiece, but it was a favorite of my early teen years.

Top 3 Shows (at the moment) (I'm sticking to just live-action shows to make it easier to choose.)

1. Leverage (I'm pretty sure this show will always be my favorite, it has been for years, and the only reason I've never written for it is because I could never do it justice.) (Also, it should be noted that I hate Leverage Redemption. It hurts my very soul, and if I ever do write for Leverage, it would be to rewrite the sequel and fix it.)

After that it is so, so hard to choose. So hard! But for #2 I'll say it's tied between Teen Wolf and Merlin. Teen Wolf because I like the darker vibe of the show mixed with the humor from the characters, but it can't fully beat Merlin because I don't love the main character of Scott that much. I feel like he never got any character development, and in my eyes Stiles will always be the main star of the show. Merlin because I love Merlin's character, he has some great, albeit heartbreaking, character development, and also because I love Medieval Fantasy and dragons and knights and all that jazz. But it also can't fully claim spot # 2 over Teen Wolf, because the show just had so much more potential that the writers didn't flesh out. (And side characters that I loved that never got the screentime they deserved.) Also, it has a sad ending, which is tragically beautiful, but after 5 seasons, I really wanted the happy ending Merlin deserved.

For #3 I'd say Stranger Things for now, we'll see if that changes once the fifth season finally comes out. (I swear if they kill Steve or Dustin I'm rioting.)

(I'd also like to note that Doctor Who would be the true #2 show if I could only pick the early seasons with Christopher Eccleston and David Tenant, but if we're considering the whole show, I just can't. The writing got so horrible after David left, and I can't stand the directions they're going in now with the two-person split. It's just my opinion, but I think the writers have really sacrificed the story for fan service, and I think that's extremely sad. Just my opinion though.)

Top 3 Characters: (This one is also so hard! They fluctuate with my mood, so these are the current ones.)

Dick Grayson. I'm so obsessed with him right now. (I've got three WIPs I'm writing, and my main fics are suffering for it.)

The Doctor (Specifically the 10th Doctor. He's so angsty and dark and fun-loving and hurt. I love him so much. <3)

Stiles. I can't get enough of his sarcastic sass and intelligence and bravery. (While I don't always write him as a human, I love that in the show he was the everyman character.)

Top 3 Ships:

The Doctor/Rose. To say I bawled my eyes out over story is a severe understatement. It gets me every time I think about it, even just writing this is making my eyes water.

Kyo/Tohru. They're so cute, and I'm obsessed with their story. (Fruits Basket is my all-time fave anime.)

Parker/Hardison. I love their dynamic and the almost immediate one-sided attraction that slowly blossomed into love on both sides. I love a good slow burn that lets you see how the couple grows together as opposed to whirlwind romances that feel so... thin and baseless.

Books I Am Currently Reading: I'm actually not reading any currently. But I recently read two awesome fics that I highly recommend. The first being Organic Failure by Content_Scrapbooker and Once More With Feeling by Rosie_the_Fanfic_Reader. They're both Dick Grayson stories, and they are awesome!

Top 5 Musicals: (This list is a bit rushed, but pretty accurate, I think.)

Phantom of the Opera

The Music Man

Les Miserables (Haven't seen this one, but I love the music.)

Singing in the Rain

Mary Poppins

And that's me! If anyone wants to play, you're welcome to join, I'd love to get to know you! But for now I'll tag @sternenblumen @clotpolemerlin @content-scrapbooker

[thebubblesareevil]

Ghost kings make bad Baristas..Coffee shop au

Should I be working on Superman adopting Danny yes am I doing that no I hit a road bump so u get this for now

Kaldur is Stressed as leader of the YJ and Dick tells him he needs a break and recommends this really great coffee shop he found in the harbor. Dick takes over training the kiddos for the day and Kaldur spends the day wandering around happy harbor trying to destress but the man is addicted to stress and we all know it.

Danny is a local college student studying astronomy and got a job at the local coffee shop. When Kaldur comes in he is greeted by a barista and he stands to the side while he browses the menu

Danny on the other hand cannot stop staring at the customer that just walked in to the point where he ended up being sprayed by steamed milk. It’s not his fault though the guy is doing it on purpose he swears. Standing near the window starring at the menu board with his chin tilted up and the light hitting him juuuussst right. It s just not fair, the dude it so far out of his league that Danny can’t help it.

Kaldur decides on a spiced tea and approaches the counter to be greeted by a rather flustered barista. He smiles and gives his order, when the barista asks for a name for the order and Kaldur decided to have a little fun and gave him his full name Kaldur’ahm to see what he would end up writing on the cup.

Danny is dead, fully dead, he has been killed, his gorgeous customer has finished what was started 6 years ago. His voice is just…mmmmmmm. Danny is trying really hard not to let his internal scream turn external that he isn’t paying full attention when he writes the name, Kaldur’ahm it suits him, on the cup. He makes the spiced tea calls his name and tries his best not to make a perfect imitation of a tomato.

Kaldur thanks the barista and turns but as he goes to drink his tea he catches sight of the name written on the cup. It was in fact his name, with not a letter out of place, written in perfect Atlantean. Kaldur freezes and checks the collar on his sweater, making sure his gils are not showing before he scopes out the cafe to make sure he’s not being watched. He turns back around to the counter to confront the barista.

Danny is FREAKING OUT he’s turning around, he only had one sip how bad could he have possibly messed up that tea oh god just end it. Kaldur’ahm calmly shows him the writing on the cup and asks him what it said. Danny looked at the cup and went pale. Apparently his autopilot recognized his name as being Atlantean and ghost speak took over. Oh my god that Atlantean he’s Atlantean wtf wtfnwtf!!! Danny tries to calmly respond that it’s his name and he hopes he spelled it right.

Kaldur is immediately suspicious, he looks at the name tag, this Danny can barely look him in the eye and he says no it’s spelled perfectly, but where did he learn Atlantean? Danny panics and says internet. Kaldur doesn’t believe him but nods and leaves. He informs nightwing of the incident and they both head back to the coffee shop together the next day to scope out the barista.

Danny looks very excited when Kaldur walks in and when he ordertheir drinks he and Kaldur end up talking for a bit as he made the drink, once again in Atlantean, to which Kaldur comments about how fluent he is. Nightwing is dying in the corner waiting for his friend when Kaldur comes back and they leave he can’t stop laughing because this “Danny” wasn’t plotting, he thought you were hot, he was nervous.

Kaldur is surprised but still brings up the fact that he spoke FLUENT Atlantean. Nightwing suggests he ask the barista out and see if he can figure it out and to keep him updated. The next time Kaldur went to the cafe Danny wasn’t there so Kaldur got his tea and left, oddly enough his tea tasted quite different from what Danny made him.

It was as he was leaving that Kaldur ran into Danny again, literally. Danny was walking out of the office and they crashed into each other, Danny immediately started to apologize. They started to talk and Kaldur asked if he was about to clock in. Danny laughed sadly and said no I actually just got fired, apparently I’m REALLY bad at making coffee, hopefully my tea making skills weren’t too bad though? Kaldur gave a slight chuckle and said not bad no.

Kaldur asks if he’s not busy would he like to get some lunch. Danny blushed and said yes they talk all afternoon (in Atlantean) and Kaldur ends up asking him on another date then another and another, you see where this is going… or do you? At one point Danny address someone who says something homophobic in another language and Kaldur starts to wonder how many languages Danny knows. The whole team gets in on it. They are absolutely certain they got him when M’gann starts speaking Martian and they are all blown away when he starts speaking fluent Martian. They are determined to figure it out. Danny eventually tells Kaldur about ghost speak. Neither tell the team. Tim has been looking for the most obscure language he can find and Danny wants to see what he comes up with.

[kaelinaloveslomaris]

Tagging Game

Rules: post the first sentence of your last ten fics. If you haven’t written ten fics, share as many first-sentences as you have.

I was tagged by @mokulule, thank you friend!

And I will tag @mochimochacatte and @ivorydice

Starting from most recently posted/updated, the first sentences of my last ten fics:

1. Brother, we are now each other’s responsibility (Batfam, specifically Jason & Tim)

Nightwing stood on a roof in the middle of Crime Alley, wondering if he’d made a mistake.

2. Sleepless Eyes See Too Little (FFXV, Ignis & chocobros)

The man at the end of the snack aisle looked familiar.

3. Absolute Pin (FFXV, Cor & Noctis)

Noctis had been missing for over eighteen hours when Cor got the call, and they had been some of the most awful hours of Cor’s life.

4. disperse the gloomy clouds of night (FFXV, Noctis & Regis)

This was the first time Noctis had seen his dad in over a month - aside from a few passing glances at televised news stories about this law or that event, which didn’t really count - and it was likely he wouldn’t be able to exchange more than a handful of words with him after this meeting before Regis was swept off to wherever he was needed for his next appointment.

5. Counting Down Chocobos (FFXV, Noctis & Ardyn, chocobros)

Noctis woke slowly, awareness gradually filtering into his sluggish mind.

6. A Brush With Death (FFXV, Noctis & Drautos, chocobros)

He’d stepped away only for a moment to answer a phone call, waving Gladio away when his Shield had moved to follow him.

7. Who Pays the Cost (FFXV, Noctis)

The gala for Noctis’s 18th birthday had been in full swing for several hours, and they were past the polite pre-dinner mingling, and the dinner itself - which was Noctis’s favorite part, because the cooks didn’t try to serve him vegetables for once, and the amount of required talking was minimized - and were now in his least favorite part of any such function: the post-dinner socializing.

8. With Your Head Held High (FFXV, Noctis & Ardyn, Noctis & Regis)

It was pure chance that Noctis learned the chancellor of Niflheim was in the Citadel, while he was still in the Citadel. Ignis had been keeping his ear to the ground for any rumors that might circulate in the wake of the ceasefire, and the Glaives who had been pulled back from the frontlines were more chatty than the Crownsguard usually were.

9. Into the Starlight (Star Wars, Luke & Vader)

The last thing Luke expected in the middle of an attack on the base was to be paged to the command center by Mon Mothma herself.

10. Best Laid Schemes (FFXV, Ignis & chocobros)

“He should be alone with Noctis for a while after picking him up from school.”

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ starting prompt: “if I was your boyfriend, I’d pepper you with kisses and gifts and spoil you so bad.” 

♡ pairing: tim drake (Robin YJ S2) x fem reader

♡ lyric inspiration: “if we go down then we go down together, we’ll get away with everything, we’ll show them we are better.” 

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes

Tim Drake was a special one, everyone knew that. he wasn’t Dick, the happy go lucky Robin, he for sure wasn’t Jason Todd, the sarcastic and very rude Robin. he was the tactical Robin, the one who made sure everything went as planned, whether it was on a mission or when all of you decided to hangout. 

you were not apart of his plan. at all. 

when you first joined the team, you were very similar to Garfield and Bart. very playful, extremely flexible when it came to hanging out with everyone on the team which made you very likable amongst them. Tim didn’t really like it at first. 

he thought all you liked to do was have fun and play games but when he finally saw you out on the field, he was more than impressed. it was like a flip of a switch. your playful personality immediately went out the window and it was like you became a whole other person. 

the team at the moment was having a bit down time. more than usual that is. you were lying around the lair, kicking your legs up against Bart as Nightwing walked in with Robin following behind him. 

“hey guys!” you murmured through a mouthful of chips, “afternoon ( hero name ), enjoying that bag of chips?” Nightwing asked. you nodded happily as Bart reached in and ate some, “what has all of you here? you guys aren’t usually around at this time of day,” Garfield exclaimed. 

Robin sat next to you, making sure he didn’t sit too close to you. when he started developing his crush on you, he immediately sensed himself getting nervous around you so he made it his mission to remain a close yet far distance. 

“we need to talk to the team and since some of you are here, we figured it was best to break the news to you now,” you gave Tim and the rest of the boys a nervous look, “is the team breaking up? because I can’t afford to be back on the street,” you practically blurted. 

Nightwing laughed, shaking his head, “nothing like that! the city of Gotham actually wants to honor the team this weekend at a special dinner,” Nightwing said. you sighed in relief as he continued, “they want it to be a black tie event so all of you need to be dressed appropriately. Wonder Woman herself offered to buy your attire if you choose to attend,” he mentioned to you.

you perked up in excitement. 

“awesome! I’ll give her a call right now, thanking her in advanced,” you said, getting up from the couch and heading to the nearest phones. Tim sighed, watching you walk away as Nightwing gave his brother a look of confusion. 

“any of you planning on asking any of the girls as a date?” Nightwing asked off handedly. Garfield and Bart instantly perked up, eyes darting in the direction of where you went, “definitely ( hero name ),” the two boys said. 

suddenly, the air went thick as Bart, Garfield, and Tim looked at each other. a competitive stare fell on their faces as Nightwing could tell something was up, “mind telling me what all of you are thinking?” Nightwing asked them as Garfield and Bart instantly looked at each other. 

“I’m asking her out!” the two of them shouted. 

Nightwing shook his head disappointedly. he knew that this would become an issue. there wasn’t many girls on the team that could be asked out on a date so that really only left you and Cassie on terms of availability. 

“please, like she’d accept you as a date,” Bart told Garfield as Garfield immediately stood up in defensive, “you’re the one to talk!” he retorted just as loudly. 

Nightwing could tell his brother was thinking to himself. something he did often and while he wasn’t exactly the best at figuring it out, this time, he knew it had to do with the conversation at hand. every now and again, Dick could see the way Tim looked at you. some of it was eyes of admiration but more often than not, he had that lovestruck look. 

Dick could just tell that Tim was also apart of the competition in trying to ask you out. you had walked back inside to the living room but this time with Cassie at your side. you were laughing at something she said before Garfield and Bart attacked you suddenly. 

“do you want to be my date to the dinner?” they both yelled in unison. Cassie immediately started laughing as you stood in place, not knowing whether to accept or not, “uh, Garfield? I thought you seen me as a sister?” you asked, seeing Gar’s dejected face. 

last week while all of you were playing a game of cards, he had mentioned that he thought of you as a sister in passing. while he never thought that the comment would ever come back to haunt him, sure enough it did. Gar hung his head low as Bart gave you a hopeful look. 

“you serious?” you asked the redhead. Bart nodded excitedly, “yeah! we can get matching ties and dresses!” he practically boasted as he grabbed your hand, shaking it in excitement. 

you shook your head, “whatever Allen, the color we’re wearing is dark green so find a tie and I can find a color to match a dress with it,” you stated, making Bart nod in agreement. 

once you were out of earshot with Cassie, Bart fist pumped the air in excitement as he danced in place, “told you I’d get the girl!” he exclaimed happily. Tim sighed, not saying much as he tried to not make it sense that he was both jealous and disappointed. 

he had no idea that they were going to ask you out this quickly. Tim figured that maybe he could get you alone and ask you out when the time was right but now....Bart had beat him to the punch and by the looks of it, you seemed pretty interested in him too. 

Tim wasn’t one to get insecure about himself rather quickly but seeing someone he had grown to like over the course of the last few months, he felt that small bit of insecurity rise up. 

+

Saturday morning at the lair was busier than usual. since Gar hadn’t acquired a date for tonight, between him and a few others, they offered to take patrol for the night. you were feeling nervous bubbles in your stomach. you had never gone on a date before and while you had never saw Bart as anything but a brother, maybe the dinner could change it. 

you ironed out the forest green dress and hung it in your designated room closet. while you were trying on a few heels Wonder Woman had bought you, you heard a knock on your door before seeing Megan walk in with a solemn look on her face. 

“hey Megan!” you exclaimed happily. she gave you a tight lipped smile, “Bart’s on the phone. he needs to tell you something,” she murmured, handing the phone over to you. 

you grabbed it, hearing the hacking cough coming from the other end of the phone. you instantly sighed knowing exactly why Bart had called you. he wasn’t going to be able to make it to the dinner. he had caught the bug that Jaime had a few days before and wasn’t able to get out of bed. 

“I told you not to hang out with him Thursday night,” you threatened, clutching your heel in your hand, “but did you listen? no you did not. now I have dress that won’t be worn because the IDIOT who had offered to be my date was irresponsible,” you exclaimed. 

Bart tried to makeup an apology but you practically waved it off, “have fun in bed you jerk!” you said before hanging up. Megan gave you a sad look, “you’re really not going tonight?” you sighed, shaking your shoulders, “you should! Wonder Girl, Robin, Blue Beetle, Nightwing, Superboy, and the rest of us are still going. you could always just tag along with one of us!” she offered. 

you thanked her silently. you figured since Wonder Woman had already bought the dress for you, you couldn’t just let it go to waste. “sure, I’ll tag with Wonder Girl tonight,” you murmured, trying not to seem disappointed. 

Megan gave you a quick hug before letting you go back to doing your makeup. Tim walked in with his suit in hand as Megan walked out of your room, “what’s going on?” he asked Nightwing. he looked to his brother, “Bart caught the bug Blue had a few days ago and can’t go to the dinner with ( your name ), he whispered. 

Tim tried not to seem happy by what he had just found out but since Bart was sick and Gar was staying for patrol, he figured his stars must’ve aligned. the dinner was going to be happening in under an hour and all he was told to do was bring his suit so all of you could head out in one car. 

“that must be upsetting for her,” Tim replied, seeing as Dick started to laugh, “some how I get the sense that you aren’t as upset as she is,” he said before walking away. 

Tim didn’t say anything as he heard Dick tell him to get dressed within the next few minutes before all of you were late. as Tim went into the bathroom, he heard you call Cassie or Megan over to your room. he wondered what you needed but figured it wasn’t his place to head over if you didn’t call for him. 

putting on the suit didn’t take as long as he thought. all he needed was help tying the tie and he went back out to the front of the lair. “she looks great, doesn’t she?” he heard Zatanna say to Megan, “I feel kinda bad for Bart. he really missed out,” she added on. 

you walked out of your room as you struggled to walk with your heels on. Garfield, Tim, and even Nightwing were a bit taken back by how you looked. you had never been so dressed up before so they were in a bit of shock as you walked out with Cassie. 

“wow,” Garfield whispered, “can I be your date tonight?” he said as you smacked him in the back of his head, “sorry Gar, you have patrol or else I would actually take you up on that,” you giggled before sitting down on the couch. 

Tim almost instantly sat next to you as he gave you a smile, “you look....fantastic,” he mentioned. you looked at the ground, not trying to get caught with a flustered expression, “thanks Rob, it means a lot coming from you,” you said, not realizing what you were actually saying. 

Dick smiled to himself as he watched the interaction. his heart warmed up at the sight of the two of you. he knew Tim took himself a bit too seriously sometimes so seeing you break that harsh exterior made him happy. Tim needed to loosen up and maybe you would be the one to do that for him. hell, Tim trusted you with his life and that was not something he said often.

after all of you arrived to the dinner and thanked everyone who coordinated the event, all of you sat down at separate tables to eat. you had asked for a two seat table since you figured that Bart was going to join you but now, you realized that you’d probably be eating alone on the balcony. 

just as you handed your jacket to the hostess, you saw Robin walking your way, “mind if I sit with you?” he asked nervously. you perked up, “of course! you sure you don’t wanna sit with Nightwing or even Blue?” you asked. Tim shook his head no, “I’d prefer if I sat with you,” he tried to say without a blush covering his face. 

he pulled your chair out, making sure you were already seated before pushing you back in. Tim sat across from you, giving you a smile before looking to the hostess who was making her way over to the two of you again. 

-

the night had went relatively quickly. that semi-awkward tension between the two of you quickly disappeared as both of you got comfortable around each other. 

Robin, underneath that shell of his was a pretty funny guy. he would tell a joke that would have you crying from laughter for at least a few minutes and while the hostess that was attending the two of you had mentioned that it was getting a bit more cold and the two of you should just head in, neither you or Robin made the move to actually go inside. 

the two of you were sitting down on cushioned lawn chairs, talking about a failed mission the two of you had went on a few months ago that made Bart lose his eyebrows due to an explosion. 

“I swear, it was the funniest thing ever,” you said through giggles, “you really should have been on our team.” Tim sighed contently as he watched you run your hand through your hair, “hey, can I ask you something?” he asked suddenly. 

you nodded, a bit nervous on why he changed his mood all of a sudden, “do you have a thing with Bart?” he asked. you were taken back, not knowing that this would be the question, “uh, no? we’re just friends. I know we were supposed to be each others dates but I think he really only asked me because of his little competition with Garfield,” you murmured, “why do you ask?” 

the two of you had been leaning up against the rail of the balcony as you had taken Tim’s jacket earlier in the night and wrapped it around yourself. 

“I was wondering...if after this dinner.....you’d be interested in going out on another date with me?” 

you stayed silent for a moment, not knowing what to respond with. 

“with me? really? I never thought of Mr.Perfect asking me out on a date,” you replied, trying not to make it too awkward, “I don’t think you’re any different than I am. I’ve liked you for a while now and have been wondering if you felt the same.” 

you let out a sigh, “of course. I’d love too. I’m just not sure what you see in me is all,” you responded with. Tim grabbed your hand and held it, “you’re amazing. whether it’s on the field and kicking someone’s ass or just lounging around the lair with Gar and Bart. if I was your boyfriend, I’d pepper you with kisses and gifts and spoil you so bad,” he confessed. 

you stayed silent, not knowing how to reply. you had never taken Tim as the romantic type and was not expecting that kind of confession. 

Tim leaned in and placed the smallest kiss on your lips as he put his forehead on yours after he pulled away. you smiled, putting your hand on his cheek and brushing your thumb against it, “that means I should probably tell you who I really am,” Tim murmured, taking off his domino mask. 

“I’m Tim, Tim Drake.” 

“ ( your name ).” 

[batarangsoundsdumb]

guess fucking what? my inbox is so fucking full right now i'm unloading all of this shit in one post.

For the 11th gotham memes: gothamites react to bruce being jacked in a tiktok he made with kids, like super yoked, ripped as hell

fucking hilarious thanks. i think i did it in one meme post, but i genuinely don't remember which one

i dunno which of the batfam would do this but one time i was sleeping over at a friends house and ended up on the floor bc the bed was so very small and i just stayed there because the rug was soft

that's a drunk jason move i don't know what to tell you

tim and jason are "i listen to pop punk" solidarity. whenever jason highjacks the batmobile theyll go on long ass car rides blaring mcr and paramore and then never talk about it again

as they should!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! tim: no jason it's my turn using the aux cord i gotta put on my jams jason: don't you dare put on weird shit tim: don't worry, you're gonna love this *plays fearless (taylor's version)

hear me out hear me out, red hood stans 🤝 nightwing stans t h i g h s

holy shit yes.

SNL au: Bruce breaks character when pretending to superman and says something like "I'm not superman! You've seen his gps!! It's from 2001!!!" @sabeanybabe

superman flies past the snl building the next day just to say 'actually it's from 2005, i'm not a heathen'

does your back hurt from carrying the batfam fandom

it hurts more from the exotic rock collection i keep in my backpack, but thanks for the concern.

I love your posts by why would you always leave the best parts in the tags?

as a treat for the people that check the tags ;) (and also because i'm committed to the short post aesthetic)

somehow your playlist was everything i never knew i needed. i mean it. this is my new favorite playlist.

and don't you dare get a new favourite playlist!

babe ur stoner tim playlist is exactly too perfect, earth is literally blessed by ur existence

babe thanks so much! i love my stoner tim playlist because it's just my usual playlist but people think it's an artistic choice that i put taylor swift and britney spears in there, when it's just what i unironically like listening to

JANDKSKDK BILLY RAY CYRUS ON THE STONER TIM PLAYLIST I LOVE IT IT

again it's not even an ironic choice, i know every single word and i genuinely like the song

The last chapter of Fundamentals of Casework has me crying at work. Thanks I love it @dudelookitsalesbian

oh babe, i'm sorry, but also, not sorry i love chapter 4 so much it's my lovechild with the 'mental illness' tag

soooo....stumbled on your tumblr by some stroke of fate??? read your DC fanfic first. which is PHENOMENAL btw. then found all the batmemes; the funniest thing EVER bc everyone forgets about regular old gothamites. kept scrolling and your blog pops up as recommended. clicked on the ao3 for shits and giggles and waddaya know?!?!? it's YOU!!! you're LEGEND!!!! ever seen that meme? it's a video of a cat that got into a baseball field and the two announcers get really invested in his escape attempt and start giving a play by play of the cat instead of the game. memeable moment: "GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!"

i seriously think about this ask every single day and it's so fucking funny to me that i've never seen the meme you're referencing, but i still find myself going 'GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!' whenever i see something funny. but wow i'm glad you liked this steaming pile of garbage

Fav dc character overall? And fav batfamily character?

don't ask me to pick between the loves of my life, but i can tell you i've cried about every single batfamily member and also wally west (my beloved)

What's your opinion on fans having a problem with batfam being "too big"? And some even claim that batfam is just "Bruce Alfred Dick Damian" and the rest of them are just "friends and allies" (source: reddit) Personally, I like batfam because of this reason but idk

stupid. a family can never be too big. i'm not that big a fan of like huge batfam stuff with everybody from every single universe, because as much as it's funny for bruce to have like 30 kids, it just feels a little too OOC for me.

This is the best tag I've seen involving the batfam, thanks for thinking of it

This is canon now @nctxrejects

lmao yeah i think at that point alfred has had to sit through like at least a dozen coming out talks and just has a pride flag collection in the attic that he pulls out whenever a kid comes out

idk why batfam hits different as compared to any other superhero family

bc it's found family and usually the other superhero families are almost all genetically related in one way or another

I don't know if you watch the umbrella academy but I saw your last post about batcest and saw the similarities. But the thing is (although I think it's weird) in TUA, they addressed it by saying "they were raised as weapons, not siblings" or something along those lines, which is simply not the case with batfam.

yeah i watched tua but i also thought it was ridiculous and they still treated each other as siblings so i didn't like the luthor/allison thing, and am glad they stopped doing that shit bc it fucking sucked.

Hot take: Batcest shippers are the same people who believe adopted siblings are not actual siblings

smoking hot take: batcest shippers are the people who watch 'my sister got stuck in the washing machine' porn

Duke was adopted by Bruce?

not technically no, but do i, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb, look like i care?

True story but I had to change my freaking name because it used to be "Damien" and most people would go "OH LIKE DAMIAN WAYNE" like please I'm just tryna live

true story, but i don't actually think of damian when i hear the name damian, literally the first thing that pops up is damian darkh like bruh what?

apparently dc comics company supported comic stores by giving out new titles and stuff during the beginning of the pandemic to help them run and I just think that's wholesome

ah yeah that's so fucking cool, still don't like dc, the company, because this world is a capitalist hellhole and we're all owned by warner brothers or disney with no in between.

ayo looking at tumblr head canons and finding out bruce is actually a terrible father is a punch in the gut

lmao yes, in like 50% of comics bruce is a terrible father and it gives me whiplash

oooh I just saw the jason todd vs winter soldier post and the real question is: batman vs iron man

while iron man has like hundreds of cases of armor, batman could throw out an emp and have the guy dropping out of the sky in 2 seconds.

dickfast = fastdick = quickdick = quickie

magnum hot take

hey bata(?) just thought I'd let you know I have copied the obnoxious emoji and Billy Ray post for use on simping men going forth

thank you 😘🌷 (@spacebarsidecar)

why would you do that to your followers???? i get why i did it, but why would you???

what is scarecrow made the nightwing funko pop himself, like those diy-ers that paint over other ones

oh god no, horrible take, horrible take, that's a disgusting thought oh no

I see your HC that Bruce and Oliver fucked and raise you this: Dick and Roy ALSO fucked

yes they did and it was a horrible moment for jason to find out dick has fucked both of his best friends

"at this rate bruce adds like 1 child to his family every decade or so" Duke is introduced in 2013, Damian as Damian, not as an unnamed child, in 2006. And he is already 14 years old, Robins rarely remain Robins after 16 😬 It looks like a new Robin and Batkid will appear in a couple of years

i mean i can't wait? but somebody will probably die first tho, we're due for another major character death. my money's on either cass or duke this time.

BRO you're so right all of your Bruce's ex headcanons are amazing but they aren't ships, that's kinda wild. Like I don't want any peeks into how their relationship was I just want to see everyone make fun of them

lmao YES it's just i love bruce being a slut, like good for him.

I am in love with your posts your honour thank you

omg thanks are we like,, gonna kiss now?

The justice league needs to have a meeting to discuss how many of their members/partners have slept with bruce. Because through a combination of cannon & fannon (if DC wasn’t homophobic) we have AT LEAST: 1) clark 2) lois 3) oliver 4) dinah 5) john

Thats not counting villains or random civilians @dudelookitsalesbian

yes yes yes, they'll have a yearly meeting about how many of their collective exes could be out for revenge and batman's list just keeps getting longer.

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

and what about it?

when steph's fighting livewire and she zaps her with lighting and nothing happens and then they both just. stand there awkwardly for a second and talk. yeah i couldn't stop laughing at that batgirl steph is the BEST

oh yeah that was fucking hilarious and i think it would be so cool and sexy of dc to give steph a little comic series,,, as a treat

Hi I absolutely adore all of yours "Bruce and Oliver very badly pretending they didn't fuck each other" memes

lmao i do too

I need you to know that “Bruce Wayne had frosted tips” is one of my favorite Bruce takes of all time it’s so galaxy brained. you’re right and you should say it

he also painted his hair blonde once when he was travelling and in conclusion, this is why he's being blackmailed by the gotham gazette.

you know my thing about gordon being branded as the only good cop in gotham is its a load of shit like arguably he's a good person and not working to screw people over or anything but the fact that he also works w. batman makes him a shit cop. like yea batman is better than the mob but its still illegal its still an abuse of power he just not making bank

babe, all cops are bad cops. (but yeah youre absolutely right, working with vigilantes makes you a shit cop, but also working against vigilantes just makes you an asshole cop yanno?)

ruh roh i think i’m about to add “so not yeehaw” every time i don’t like something

that's a very good vocabulary upgrade

somehow i feel like steph already knew. like babs obviously knew but i feel like bruce got high/drunk in front of steph and started telling his boarding school stories and steph was just like “oh you fucked up i’m never gonna forget this”

steph and bruce have weird uncle/rebellious niece dynamic and they just hang out sometimes and bruce will be like 'i once broke my arm when i tripped over a hedge when i was drunk so oliver drove me to the hospital on an electric scooter' and steph will just have to sit there with that knowledge in her head.

Hello I just wanted to tell you you are So right in all your steph opinions bc she is, in fact amazing and I think that's very sexy of you. Ps. Your Bruce/Oliver fic is hilarious

babe, thank you so much and yes steph is amazing and i love her and she deserves the world and she's the best member of the batfam hands down. also thanks

In Supersons we see a couple of kids that are implied to be Damian and Jon's children and the boy has laser eyes and can fly, so I asume he's not adopted. The girl, who calls Bruce grandpa, can also fly, btw. So it's canon (probably by accident) that Jon can have kids and he must have married one of Bruce's kids. (I'm hoping for Damian, mostly because any other of his children would be waaaaaaaaaaaaay too old.) @artemisa97

lmao that was probably an accident seeing as jon is a 17 year old superhero in the year 3000 (by the jonas brothers)

You know, I'm a die hard fan of your memes, but I gotta say one thing: if Gothamites actually took gas mask everywhere with them, then the Scarecrow would just be a weird dude in a weird costume, and not a villain oh so scary. DC really should just takes notes from you.

bold of you to assume there's no gothamite anti-maskers

How does it feel being the funniest person on this app?

horrible, next question.

I can't listen to Green Day or Billy Joel without thinking of your post about how Bruce got arrested at a Billy Joel concert @nightwings-kid

yeah that's your mistake, i on the other hand can't enjoy billy joel without thinking about the glee rendition of 'uptown girl'

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

superman: so what do you do in your free time? batman, thinking about the superman fanfiction he's writing on the batcomputer: i have no free time

bruce and oliver be like boyfriends to co-workers 401k (do the justice leagues get 401ks??? not that bruce and ollie would need them, but-)

lmao yes just 400 thousand words of bruce realising 'oh dip oliver is such a fucking dumbass' (also i don't know what a 401 k is but i assume they don't?)

Gothamites would totally boo superman as he saves Gotham while batman is out. @meenje

he's like 'okay think about that next time you want to be saved from an alien octopus'

I just took long break from dc comics and I come back to see ric grayson ??

i think it's very cool and sexy of dc to see dick and just think 'you know what? let's just give him a traumatic brain injury' and then didn't develop his character in any real way

SPEAKING OF RIC GRAYSON, gothamites making confused memes out of ric grayson is much needed

'dick grayson is my taxi driver? can anyone explain what the fuck happened he looks like an italian plumber?'

i hate to say it but batfam are def "marvel characters" in that sense they are characters who are human but become superheroes unlike most dc characters who are gods trying to be human maybe this is why I like batfam

fair enough

[jinx-jade]

Secret Dreams Chapter 7: MDC

Since Marinette was technically an adult, the medics released her without a guardian having to be present. She had been hoping not to let Jagged and Penny find out about the attack. That plan seemed to have gone out the window the moment she walked through the door of her hotel room.

Jagger and Penny had been scrolling through the T.V. when they came across the attack on a news channel. They would have kept scrolling if Penny hadn’t noticed Marinette sitting in the back of the ambulance.

 The second she closed her hotel door Marinette was tackled into a hug by Jagged, Penny no far behind. They both began to fuss over her. Checking her for any injuries even after Marinette had told them that her only injury was the puncture wound from the antidote.

Once they were mostly done with their fussing, Penny told her to take a shower and relax. To which she happily complied, taking a long hot shower to relax her tense muscles.

After Marinette was done with her shower and dressed, Penny informed her that she won’t be allowed out of their supervision until after the gala.

“So I’m grounded?” Marinette questions, sounding amused instead of irritated as one would expect.

Penny let out a sigh. “Yes, you're grounded.”

“Oh, Woe is me for I have been grounded!” Marinette claims, falling dramatically onto her bed. “Whatever shall I do! Confined within the walls of which I have temporarily called home! With nothing but my sketchbook, pencils, phone, and laptop to keep me company!”

Penny shook her head in amusement. “Good night Marinette.”

“Night Aunt Penny!” Marinette replied with a cheery smile as Penny left for her room. Most likely dragging Jagged with her.

Marinette didn’t get to go to sleep like she had implied she would be doing to Penny. This was due to her phone, which had started beeping. The beeping was in a pattern letting her know the call was for the other side of MDC.

Marinette checked to make sure Penny and Jagged had both left before she even thought to look at her phone. Once Marinette was sure no one else was in her hotel room, she checked the location of the firewall breach.

Marinette was only a little surprised to see it was coming from underneath Wayne manor. A smile that promised pure chaos appeared on her face as she hit the accept button, waiting for them to do the same.

The phone screen changed from the loading screen to the ‘call in progress’, as her voice changer activated.

Not even giving them a moment to question what was happening, she immediately began talking.

“魔盾 Co. (Mó dùn Co.) wishes to inform you that you have breached one too many firewalls. Please state your name and reason for trespassing.” Marinette’s low static voice commanded.

“魔盾 Co. (Mó dùn Co.)? Are you talking about Magic shield Company? The Parisian vigilantes’ company?” Nightwing questioned.

“Correct. Now, Name and reason for trespassing.” Was said in a threatening tone.

“This is Oracle. I was running a background check on one Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I came across some hidden code of which I investigated.” Oracle’s static voice claimed as it came through the call.

“Your reason for running a background check this deep?” MDC inquired.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng took down six of Scarecrow’s goons while under the influence of fear-toxin. It piqued our interest so I ran a background. Our normal surface level check revealed that she should not have anything more than self-defense training. I found that suspicious and ran a more thorough check.” Oracle shot back in response.

“I’ll have to ask you to stop with your investigation,” MDC informs them.

“Why?” Red Robin questions.

“If you wish for that question to be answered then please inform me as to who is listening to, can hear, or will hear, this conversation.” MDC bargains with them.

There was silence from the Batfamily’s side of the call before Oracle began to speak again. “Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Blackbat, Batgirl, Red Robin, Robin, and myself, Oracle.”

“That’s Everyone?” MDC questioned cautiously.

“Correct. I believe you’ll answer our question now.” Oracle states.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Codename شبح (Shabh). Currently staying in Gotham, New Jersey, America. Court member of eight years. Court rank classified. Runs the company MDC, a front for 魔盾 Co. (Mó dùn Co.).” MDC reads off Marinette’s official court file.

The bats’ side of the call went silent once again.

“She’s eighteen.” Red Robin stated.

It wasn’t a question but MDC answered anyway, “Correct.”

“You let a ten-year-old join the Magic shield.” Red Hood growled

“Correct. I don’t understand why Shabh’s age is such a hard concept for you to grasp.” MDC replied coolly.

There was movement on the bats’ side of the call, but no one said anything.

“Why is Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s codename in Arabic?” Batman inquires.

“You’ll have to ask Shabh yourself,” MDC answered.

“You’re going to tell her about this?” Batgirl asked.

“You’re questioning if I will tell one of my court members that their identity is, for the most part, compromised,” MDC asked sarcastically.

“You’re the one who answered our questions!” Nightwing shot back in response.

“If I hadn’t answered your questions you would have assumed Shabh was a threat.” MDC pointed out.

The bats mumbled their agreements with the previous statement. A few of them denied it before agreeing that they had a point.

“Now if you excuse me, It’s quite late in Gotham. Some of us should be sleeping.” MDC hints with an amused tone.

“Tch. I believe we have a schedule to keep. Unless you wish to keep asking pointless questions that seem to be leading yourselves in circles.” Robin spoke. He seemed to be addressing the bats, not herself, but the irritation was clear in his voice.

“Robin’s correct. We’ll be taking our leave.” Batman informs her.

Marinette ended the call almost as soon as the words left Batman’s mouth. As much fun as it is to mess with her bonded’s family, she really should be heading to bed. Not only did she need sleep, but she should also head to the dream zone.

Damian will probably want a lot of cuddles and be over-protective for a while after the scare she had probably given him. The thought of spending time with her bonded immediately made a smile appear on her lips as the exhaustion from today’s fight finally caught up to her. Her eyelids became heavier as her need to blink increased. Marinette closed her eyes and finally let the darkness that was sleep consume her.

tag list: @little-bluestar @redbullgivescaswings @stackofrandomstuff @meismu @maskedpainter @nyx-in-line @iamabrownfox @m0chik0furan @jjmjjktth @icerosecrystal @machichannx @a4-machete @our-preciousss @justafanwarrior @animegirlweeb @loopingtangent @buginetye @blueslushgueen @solangelo252 @officiallydarkgreek @toodaloo-kangaroo @melicmusicmagic @alysrose-starchild @lunathealphafemale @frieddonutsweets @marvel--unsolved @user00000003 @henie04 @anonymously-odd @jayjayspixiepop @eggadoodle @demonicbusiness @laurcad123 @how-to-fuction-properly @stormfox2411

[lovecinnatwist]

How would you go about writing omega Jason with Alpha Dick?

Man oh man- Omega!Jason with Alpha!Dick is always such a bop.

It depends really! I see so many fics with insecure Jason thinking Dick is too good for him which is nice and definitely in character- but sometimes it makes me crave the other end of the spectrum?

Like a confident, sexy Jason who teases Dick with his scent and body until the alpha wants to implode? I also like the idea of Jason being raised by an Omeganist!Alfred and Omega!Talia to be badass, sassy and sensual. Bras? Suppressants? Painful heats?

Not for Jason Todd!

He embraces his Omega-ninity and it wreaks havoc on Dick's hormones. Dick being a more conservative alpha would definitely find himself overwhelmed but enamored!

Here's something playful with a clumsy Alpha!Dick and confident pack Omega!Jason!

Tiddies Out - JayDick

Tags: Omegaverse, AlphaDick, OmegaJason, Pining, Crack treated Seriously, Lactating, Heat Cycles, Omega Tim, Alpha Bruce, Pup Damian- Just Dick being an obvious pining idiot and Jason enjoying his reactions-

Jason doesn’t mind being an omega. How could he when it’s one of the superior options? While Alpha’s often lost themselves to aggression during rutting season and beta’s scrambled to placate them- Omega’s got to sit back and watch the show.

Being the object of an alpha’s fascination has many perks. First off? The gifts. Lavish offerings make their way to him with little to no effort. Weaponry from Talia, Expensive silks and poisons from Ras, The latest tech from Tim and Bruce. It's an endless parade really. One of the few things that make this more bearable to put up with.

He’s a heavy milker. Always has been.

Maybe it’s from growing up in an abusive household. Perhaps it's in response to being closer to the pack’s pups or hell, maybe his body is just gearing up for the imaginary children it wants to have. Regardless of the reason Jason’s tits are aching.

They seem extra tender tonight. The cold dingy air does little to ease the tension under his armor. He shifts and the way his pads squish under bullet proof chest plates is a pain. He curses and tries to ignore it. Something that’s getting harder as the cotton under his clothing reaches its limit. Tsk- 4 hours his ass. It’s barely been 2 and he’s about to make a mess of his gear.

As annoying as it is. He reluctantly reaches into his kit to get two fresh napkins to change. Other omega’s might be shy to do this in public but Jason has always been more practical about it. Breasts are breasts, no reason to get all crazy about it.

Though it probably didn’t hurt that Jason himself had a nice rack. He knows what the other heroes say about him behind his back. His figure has never been more appreciated than now in his prime. The dip in the pit did wonders at helping him bulk up. Thighs thick, emphasising his trim waist. In the throws of season his ample chest gives him an illusion of an hourglass figure. While some people would say omega’s should be small and dainty, he has yet to meet an alpha or beta who can resist him.

Not to be vain but he is nothing else if not attractive.

He’s got his top half way off when the sound of a near violent thud echoes out in the darkness. The hiss of pain gives away the alpha before his scent can. Jason doesn’t even turn in his direction. Instead he keeps his attention on the sopping pads under the compression shirt. He hisses as the gentle adhesive pulls from his throbbing mamories.

“ You alright over there goldie? “

He gets a groan for an answer. A nicer person would have maybe let the other man know about his current state of undress. Too bad that Jason isn’t exactly known for being ‘nice’. He carefully wraps up one cotton cloth. Once he’s clean and dry, he applies another. It’s quick and easy work. The slight chill does wonders against his flush skin.

The worn form of Nightwing crawls from the side of the building. There’s a pretty good bruise on his cheek Jason is 90% sure that the acrobat had a less than graceful landing. He’s always been weird about nudity. Even back when they mostly had the same parts. He rolls his eyes as the man pointedly tries not to look at him. He can’t help scoffing at the false modesty.

“ Hood. You shouldn’t do this out in the open like this. Anyone could see you. “

Everyone knows Jason is an omega, by extension that means Red Hood. It’s one of the reasons why his territory is so well protected. No one wants to cross an omega. While the fangs in their mouths were now more for scruffing kits, no one had forgotten the days when they were for hunting prey and tearing out throats.

He would flash his at Dick but he’s wearing his helmet and would probably just looks stupid. He manages to get the other pad off. It’s absolutely drenched. His left teet is definitely working harder than the right. The sheer weight of the cotton makes a loud squelch as it hits the little plastic bag at his feet.

He snorts. “ And you know what they’d say N? Best tits in Gotham. “

The alpha’s face is anything but amused. The furrow of his brow and spike in his scent is territorial and aggressive. It’s laughable really considering the fact that between the two of them, Jason is actually the one in charge of protecting the pack. It’s all a part of being the lead omega.

Whether Bruce or Dick want to accept it or not.

“ Stop objectifying yourself like that. “

Jason enjoys the feeling of being clean and dry as he gets the other cotton adhesive on. It’s a welcome sensation. Especially when he straightens his armor and it’s a little less chafing and tight.

“ It’s only objectication if I say I’m only a nice pair of tits Wing. Luckily I’ve got a nice set of thighs too.“

He pays Dick no mind as he stands and packs away his used pads to be thrown away later. He might have to call it an early night at the rate. With the way fall is quickly approaching his heat is just dying to make an appearance. Perhaps he could get away with offering himself to the foster system. With the amount of milk he’s making now it would be better for the pups who need it to benefit instead of it all going to the trash.

“ Hood! “ The sound is a scandalized growl. It’s funny enough that Jason throws his head back and laughs free and clear. With the voice modulator it’s mean and menacing. Amusement bubbles in his chest. He can’t help taking off his helmet so that Dick can take in just how wide his smile is.

“ Sorry Wing. I’m a pretty girl. What can I say? “

Talia is nothing but progressive. While many omega’s in the west suffer from low self esteem. Jason learned his worth quickly. Confidence is beauty. The more one loves themselves, adores them selves and takes time to know themselves the more they blossom. It’s a deep healing that not everyone gets to understand. A privilege for a few chosen omegas. He cocks his head and smiles and see’s the exact moment Dick starts losing his footing in the conversation.

The alpha is tongue tied.

“ That’s not what I mean and you know it Hood. “

Jason shrugs. Once he’s got his stuff away he’s ready to run roofs and actually get some work done.

“ Sorry Goldie. It’s 2021 and haven’t you heard? Red Hood says free the tiddies. “

He doesn’t wait for a response as he makes a running start towards the edge of the building. It’s always such a thrill. He tucks a bit to clear the gap. The moment his legs touch the concrete the sound is silent despite the bulk of his frame. Dick calls after him but he loses the words in the wind. Laughter bubbles up in his throat. He wouldn’t be a prude just because his family wanted to be sexually repressed more than they wanted to be happy.

Dick doesn’t try to catch up with him and Jason finishes the night patrolling with Tim and Stephanie.

He manages to get an entire three hours out of the next set of pads. Instead of changing out in the open he accepts Alfred’s invitation back at the manor for a warm bath and cookies. Tim stares at his chest while Jason gets himself decent.

Tim is a gorgeous omega, with a slender petite frame and porcelain doll-like features. He always seems to get shy in the presence of Jason’s more unconventional curves.

Jason knows what low self esteem looks like. The younger omega wears it no matter how much bravo he tries to exude. Jason brushes against him briefly and lightly. His usual fragrance is marshmellowy from the sweetness of milk that clings to it.

There’s an immediate blush as Tim ducks away. Clearly he’s embarrassed from being caught. Though in reality where is the shame in a little boob appreciation amongst omegas?

“ You know Timmy, you gotta stop wearing bras. Maybe if you show a glimpse of those pretty pink nips Kon would take the hint. “

Tim goes red from his ears to his chest. Jason can practically see the steam coming from his ears. He slaps his hands over his petite breast quick enough to hurt. Jason wants to let him scamper off but instead he presses into his space even more. Long gone is the perfume of pup, now that Tim has come fully into his omega hood. Every day his scent leans more and more towards caramel and sugar.

“ Uhg you’re such a jerk. “

Tim tries to dodge out of his hold but Jason gets him anyway. The omega yelps and Jason ducks him right between each swollen peck. They are red and tender from patrol. He hasn’t put on new pads yet so some milk beads at his nipples. The little shriek Tim lets out is hilarious.

“ You’re going to get milk in my hair! Jason stop- God you suck- “

The omega fights and Jason lets him go before the two actually get into it. It’s light and playful. Well for the most part. Tim gets some milk on his face and the teen honest to God looks terrified. He curses all the way to the shower stall to take another quick bath all while Jason cackles at his misfortune.

“ I swear to God, when I start milking I'm going to get you back Ten fold! “

Jason rolls his eyes. As if.The last thing Jason’s afraid of is milk. It’s a natural thing. God everyone in this pack is repressed.

“ We’ll see about that Timberella! “

The omega hisses and Jason has to hold back a laugh as he leaves the shower. He’s so light and high from the interaction that he completely for gos a shirt. Not that he really wants to wear one. Not with how milk heavy and tender his chest is. Alfred’s always been pretty cool about it too. Being from the 60’s and all that jazz.

Jason maybe gets half way through the cave before the sound of metal crashing draws his attention. Dick walks cleanly into one of the metal tables in the middle of the lab space, knocking over tools and gadgets.

Bruce is thoroughly unimpressed from where he’s helping Damian stretch before bed. He’s in half of his costume, suppressors and scent blockers gone. The sheer disappointment in Damian’s gaze is astonishing.

“ Richard, please control yourself. “

The alpha looks like a deer caught in headlights, his mortification absolutely palpable in the air.

Jason does catch his eyes on his chest though. He smirks and sees the moment horror grows in those bright blue eyes. Instead of heading towards the stairs he decides to circle back towards the group.

Bruce chuffs from his position on the floor. He doesn’t stop what he’s doing but does tilt towards him in reverence. It’s been the biggest change in their dynamic. Bruce finally learning to respect Jason as not only a pack mate, but the pack omega. He greets him with a scenting.

Unlike Dick the alpha seems to pay little attention to his milking.

Damian’s puppy nose twitches as he leans towards him. It makes his heart flutter really. While Damian would never ask, Jason has thought of offering his breast many times. While Technically too old for it, they’ve all done their fair share of growing up too quickly. Something that Jason Laments as well as appreciates.

He scents Damian more thoroughly than Bruce, making him bristle. The boy tries to move out of his hold, hands swatting him away.

“ Todd cease your pestering immediately! If I smell of milk my peers will assume I still breastfeed. “

Jason snorts and pulls back from the prickly pup. Bruce gets a stupid fond look on his face and for a brief moment he feels it echoing on his lips.

“ And what’s wrong with that? If your pack omega is milking of course as a pup you’re welcome to it. “

Damian’s green eyes widen a fraction. His mouth opens in disbelief. Clearly, Damian in fact did not know that. Bruce stares as well, his scent turning into a sweet blend of ‘love-admiration-awe’. It draws a shiver up Jason’s spine. The tender mix of affection from his pack blankets over him like a net of spun sugar.

Jason doesn’t know why he feels drawn to look at Dick. The alpha hasn’t said anything in the past minute. He cuts his gaze to the stone still alpha and his heart flutters in excitement. The looks of jealousy and want is so strong that his intentions sparkle clear like aquamarine in shallow ocean waters.

The alpha is so much more honest when he thinks Jason isn’t looking.

He grins at Dick.

The alpha immediately shrinks in shame and embarrassment.

“ And of course any alpha spending my heat with me. “

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Stalker X Stalker, Part 7

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Perma tag: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever

No I didn't get carried away with writing domestic fluff and forget to do the one thing I was supposed to with this chapter I'm a professional and would never do that

It took a long time for Tim and Cass to convince Marinette that, no, it wasn’t a trap, it was just a normal Halloween Party. It took even longer to explain what a Halloween Party really was, because apparently it wasn’t a huge deal in France.

But, eventually, she got it:

“Okay, so every Rogue and vigilante has to go to his Halloween Party in stupid costumes… or else?”

Tim nodded. “Rogues have to go because he’ll be insufferable, we have to go because otherwise we’re leaving a bunch of Rogues alone together without supervision.”

“And it really is just a Halloween Party?”

Cass flashed two thumbs up.

Marinette still looked a little confused. “And we… we want to babysit the Rogues?”

“They mostly behave themselves. Again, Crane can be insufferable when he wants to be and they have to spend a lot of time with him in Arkham.”

“I guess that’s cool then…” Then, a thought seemed to occur to her because she brightened up. “Is Nightwing coming?”

Tim nodded, suddenly a lot more wary. “Yeah, both he and Flamebird drop by for most holidays, anyway, so they might as well… why?”

She blushed a little. “I kind of wanted to see if I could get him to train me. I think his fighting style is pretty cool.”

Tim was not jealous or annoyed that Marinette might like two of his brothers more than him. He was fine if she liked Cass more, because Cass was, well, Cass. But Dick? Damian? Come on!

At least he had a month before the party to prepare himself.

For now, he glared at Cass, because she was laughing at him behind her hand.

Then he remembered that Marinette was still there and was watching the two of them interact with a vaguely confused expression and he pulled himself together: “I don’t know if he can teach you much since he’s usually in Bludhaven, but I used to be obsessed with the guy and I know all his moves by heart.”

She tipped her head to the side, considering, then smiled at him. “Sure. Thanks, Red, I owe you one.”

He tried to hide his relief behind a smile. She smiled and blushed, so he was pretty sure it worked.

~

Marinette smiled as she scrolled through the Batinternet on her phone (they’d finally given her the password! She no longer had to waste data!). The batkids were all working on the computer, trying to hack into their father’s files to see their Christmas presents.

She didn’t get why they were doing it then, it wasn’t even Halloween yet. Still, they insisted that Batman was always prepared well before the holidays hit. She was curious about what they’d find, if anything, so she waited as Red Robin hacked their dad’s files.

Loud cheers erupted from the others, which meant they must have found something.

“... right, Ladybug, yours is easiest to get into… he probably didn’t expect you to try… he’s getting you an Xbox and a bunch of games to go with it.”

Her gaze shot up and she surged to the front of the group to see. “Really?”

Red Robin pointed at the screen and she blinked a few times. Yep, that was a customized Xbox. Wild.

Then her shoulders slumped. “Damn, I was only kidding. If I knew he was actually going to get it I would’ve asked for a Playstation.”

She continued looking at all the ‘random’ games Batman had bought her (he was suspiciously good at guessing what she liked), completely oblivious to the fact that she had accidentally started World War III right behind herself at the casual mention of a thing she wanted.

She glanced back at them once during their fight and they straightened instantly, innocent smiles in place. The hand Red Robin had in Robin’s hair turned into a hair ruffle. Black Bat had turned the way she gripped the collar of Spoiler’s shirt into pulling her down for a hug. Signal’s eyes stopped glowing under his domino. She smiled a little and turned back to the screen to look at the rest of the games. Fighting resumed.

Or, at least, it did until Marinette saw the file name.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“I knew you fuckers took my blood,” she hissed irritably.

She wasn’t exactly scared, the bats seemed generally well-intentioned, just paranoid, but that didn’t mean she liked it. They stole her blood to figure out her identity without asking.

They all tensed up behind her and looked at each other awkwardly.

Robin was first to snap out of it. He swatted Red Robin over the back of the head. “Look what you’ve done, Drake.”

Marinette blinked and then pulled her gaze back to Red Robin. “Drake?”

The batkids looked at each other awkwardly. Except for Red Robin, who was glaring at his youngest brother.

Spoiler was the first one to come up with an excuse: “It’s an older codename. We told him to come up with something original since everything else he’s used has belonged to someone else first… and that’s what he came up with.”

She considered whether Drake really confirmed that Red Robin was Tim Drake-Wayne. On one hand, yeah… but, on the other hand, was he really that stupid? Would he really use his own last name for a codename?

She supposed that, in all her time knowing Tim and Red Robin, he had never shown himself to be original. Smart, sure, but a little unoriginal.

So, yeah, Tim was almost definitely Red Robin.

But she was prepared to ignore it for now. Every bat seemed tense at the idea of her learning their identities, so she played dumb:

“It’s not that bad of a codename. Dragons are pretty cool.”

She could feel Black Bat still staring at her, but everyone else relaxed almost imperceptibly.

“He didn’t base himself off of dragons, he chose male ducks,” Robin informed her.

She blinked. “Why the hell would he choose ducks?”

Signal snapped his fingers and started pulling out his phone. “Oh, Mari -- can I call you Mari? -- you should see his outfit.”

Red Robin realized he was about to get murdered for his younger self’s outfit choices and tried to snatch the phone away.

Unfortunately for him, while he was concentrating on Signal, Black Bat had sidled over to Marinette. She tugged her arm to pull her attention from the two fighting boys and then showed her the picture.

Marinette stared at the ugly cockroach outfit for a long time before taking a deep breath: “Alright, first of all...”

~

Tim… he was fine.

Okay, no, he wasn’t.

The tracker was better, he would admit. She had even started wearing more red and black so she could wear the necklace more (something that made him feel all fuzzy inside), but she wasn’t wearing it every day and he couldn’t exactly tell if the necklace was there because she was home or if it was there because she’d worn a different outfit.

So, he only had one solution: randomly dropping by to do chores with her.

It started off with the ‘might as well’ principle. They were already out for photography and getting ideas for outfits, why not pick up some groceries while they were on their way back? She could even carry more since there were two of them.

He quickly dropped pretenses, though. The one time every few days that they hung out wasn’t enough to keep her in the house, and even if it was she clearly wasn’t fond of staying inside for long periods of time. He started dropping by every day to just go out with her.

He could tell his family was getting a little suspicious about what he was doing, Steph and Cass both narrowed their eyes at him whenever they saw him leaving the office at a normal time and once he had caught Duke following him to see where he was going… but it was fine. They weren’t going to complain about him actually getting some sort of down time.

And, he had to admit, it was nice. Not only did resting his brain for an hour or two a day do wonders for his mental health, he just… enjoyed doing chores with her? He didn’t think he would. He’d expected to like it the first few times, the novelty of going on his first grocery shopping trip or figuring out how a laundromat was always going to make it interesting and new for a bit, but it didn’t seem to be wearing off.

He was pretty sure that was because of the person he was doing it with, though.

He smiled as he watched Marinette half-climb the supermarket shelves for a bag of Takis.

“Need help?” He called.

“Nope!”

He watched her jump a few times on the lowest shelf before, eventually, climbing up another shelf.

Tim winced and surged forward to support her weight a little.

She huffed and grabbed the Takis. He set her down.

She crossed her arms. “I said I could get it.”

“I trust you. The shelves? Not so much. Do you want to die crushed under a bunch of chips?”

Her halfhearted glare morphed into a grin. “If I die any other way you have to promise to resurrect me so I can do it again.”

He rolled his eyes. “How about I resurrect you and you try not to die again for a while?”

“Hm… I guess that’d be alright.”

Then, at the laundromat, Tim saw a bunch of Two Face’s henchmen. How did he know that they were henchmen? The black and white suits kind of gave them away.

He was just wondering whether it was worth it to try and call Duke over so they didn’t risk something happening when he realized that Marinette had slipped over to them.

But she wasn’t concerned as she offered some of her detergent. “Hey, if you need to wash lights and darks together like that… you’re going to need a different detergent. I know those are cheap but there’s a reason for that.”

“Isn’t that just an old detergent problem?”

“No, separating every single color into a different load is. But, if you want to do pure black and white like that… you don’t want to risk it.”

Then she turned and glared at another goon, who was pulling their luckily still okay clothes out of the washer.

“You’d better not be putting that in the dryer.”

The sheepish look on the henchman’s face was answer enough.

She huffed. “That is airdry only why would you do that --?!”

And that’s how they ended up friends with -- and possibly under the protection of? -- a bunch of henchmen. Tim had to admit, they were really nice when he and Marinette weren’t trying to get them thrown in jail. He almost found himself slipping and hoping that Frank managed to achieve his mob boss dreams. He actually did offer to babysit Sam’s kids while she had a shift because she seemed very stressed.

“Tim, darling, do you even know how to take care of kids?”

Tim didn’t know whether to blush because she had called him darling oh my god or due to embarrassment at that massive oversight.

“Uh… would you be willing to help?”

Marinette gave him an exhausted look. “I’ve only ever babysat one kid at a time without their older sibling being there to help.”

He quickly changed the offer to paying for a babysitter. Sam was thankful regardless.

When everyone had finished laundering their clothes to Marinette’s satisfaction, the two of them headed back towards her apartment.

Tim changed the position of the laundry basket on his hip so it didn’t dig into him as much. “You know, you didn’t have to help them.”

She snickered. “First of all, you’re absolutely wrong. I couldn’t just sit by and watch them ruin their clothes right in front of me!”

He rolled his eyes, trying to hide the fond smile on his face. “And second of all?”

“Secondly…” She let him into the house and closed the door behind him. A cheeky smile formed on her face. “Well, they’re henchmen. Don’t you think it would be a good idea to have them on our side in case things go wrong rather than indifferent to what happens to us?”

It was here, with her smiling in front of him, intelligence sparkling in her eyes and the necklace he gave her hanging from her neck, that he realized that he was going to fall in love. He might not be there yet but, if they continued doing things like this, he was sure he would.

He wouldn’t mind that, he thought, as she leaned forward to take the basket from him, pressing a kiss to his cheek on the way over. He watched her disappear to her room, no doubt to fix whatever damage he had done while carrying it that would be invisible to anyone but her. He shoved his hands in his pockets and went to start up the coffee machine.

~

There are no botanical gardens more beautiful than the ones in Gotham. Whether that was because Poison Ivy herself tended to them or because they were kept in tip-top shape to appease her, Marinette didn’t know. Whatever the reason, it was gorgeous and Marinette had gotten quite a few different ideas. She pretty much had an entire spring collection planned out…

It was unfortunate that she’d gotten ideas for a spring collection in the middle of autumn, but she was ignoring that.

Now, they were sitting on her couch. They needed to relax after all that walking around on top of a rather exhausting night the night before (Scarecrow had broken out of Arkham to start preparing for his Halloween Party). She was completely in his space in an attempt to mess with him. It, unfortunately, didn’t seem to annoy him as he lazily rested his head on top of hers.

She huffed a little but allowed it.

He fiddled with the settings on his camera, biting his lip.

She looked down at the camera and asked: “How’d you get into photography?”

“... it’s a kind of personal story,” he said carefully. “A little sad, too, I guess.”

She tried to pull back, an apology on her lips, but he just rested an arm around her shoulders and held her close.

“It’s fine.”

She nodded as much as she could with the head resting on top of hers.

They were silent for a long time. She tried to relax herself. There were no akumas in Gotham, it was okay to accidentally upset someone and it was okay to ask them if they wanted to elaborate. They were people, people are supposed to feel sad sometimes. It’s healthy.

She took a deep breath before curling more into his side. “Would you like to talk about it?”

The arm around her tightened almost imperceptibly. “I… I guess I can, sure.”

“You don’t have to,” she said quickly. In fact, she might be a little more comfortable with that. Emotional conversations weren’t a Parisian’s forte.

But he sighed and shook his head. “It’s fine. Our relationship can’t progress all that healthily if we never tell each other anything.”

Yikes. Way to accidentally call her out on the fact that she hadn’t formed a healthy relationship in years, Tim.

“Not that I’m all that great at healthy relationships,” he said after a minute.

At least she wasn’t alone, she supposed.

“No easy way to say this, I guess… my parents weren’t the best. They’d go on trips -- they were archaeologists -- and I’d be left home alone, usually for months at a time.”

She cringed internally and took his hand in hers, rubbing comforting circles into his palm.

He sighed lightly. “So… I was lonely, obviously. I started by taking pictures of my parents. Sometimes it was all I’d have of them for months. They could leave, but the pictures weren’t able to.”

She felt him bury his face in her hair.

“I started following the bats after a while. I don’t know if it was because I wasn’t sated by pictures of just the two of them and decided to expand, if it was because they had a happy family despite a distant father and I wanted that for myself, or if it was because I wanted my parents to find out and be worried about me, or a mix of all of that… but…”

She slowly moved the camera off of his lap and pulled him into a hug. “But?”

He was silent for a bit, thinking over his answer. He shrugged and wrapped his arms around her. “It was an old coping mechanism. A way of feeling connected to people when I couldn’t actually be.”

“‘Was?’ What changed?”

He laid back on the couch and she allowed him to pull her down beside him. “People around me… started ‘leaving permanently’.”

She winced. Oh.

“It hurt a lot more to look at the pictures after that. It just felt like a reminder that I was alone.”

She frowned. “But… you’re taking pictures of me, now.” Her eyes widened. “Shit, did I accidentally trigger --.”

He shook his head quickly. “No, no. Well, kind of, but it’s okay! Every time they’ve died, it was because of some sort of shortcoming on my part. I think I’ve learned from all my mistakes. You… I won’t let you get hurt, okay?”

Marinette didn’t know how to respond. On one hand, she was pretty sure that she should be assuring him that, even if she did end up dying, that he shouldn’t blame himself… on the other hand, she had no intentions of dying and she was pretty sure it was nearly impossible for her, so maybe it was a good thing that he had chosen to protect her of all people? Maybe the problem would solve itself?

She didn’t know.

She carefully took his face in her hands, pulling him to look her in the eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, okay, darling?”

He gave her a tentative smile. “I sure hope you’re right.”

~

He had been asked to stay the night. Her excuse was that she was almost done with an outfit for him and she wanted to give it to him the second it was done and, by the time it would be, it would be too dark to go out safely.

Tim kind of felt bad that he had worried her but he wasn’t going to turn down the offer of staying over and watching her finish the outfit.

But, first, food. They dropped a million takeout menus on the desk. A long silence stretched between them as they looked at all the options.

“... what do you want?” Asked Marinette.

“I’m not in the mood for anything in particular, you?”

She sighed. “I don’t know, do you want anything?”

“I don’t want anything, what about you --?”

This continued on for about three minutes before Tim got a brilliant idea. He dialled Damian’s number and put it on speaker.

“Drake. Why are you calling? Have you been hurt?”

“No, Dami, I’m getting takeout and I was just wondering if you had any ideas.”

Marinette gave him an affronted look, but he clapped his hand over her mouth before she could warn Damian that, no, he wasn’t buying food for him he was just going to be an asshole.

“... I suppose I wouldn’t be averse to Chinese.”

“Thanks, Dami! Hope you can get Alfie to make that for you.”

“What do -- ?”

Tim hung up on his very confused younger brother.

Marinette frowned as he removed his hand from her mouth. “That wasn’t nice of you, that’s a kid.”

Tim was not about to get beaten by his brother in both identities, thank you very much.

“Alfred can cook better than anyone in the world, he’s not going to suffer.”

She snorted. “I doubt he can make food better than…” She picked through the takeout papers for a few moments before holding up a menu. “... this place!”

He squinted at the menu. “... I really hope you can speak Mandarin.”

“You’d be hard pressed to find a language I can’t speak, Timmy,” she said, absently dialling the number.

Well, he supposed that explained how a person from France knew ASL and could speak English like a native. Damn. Now he kinda wanted magical god-earrings so he could speak every language in existence.

She spoke cheerfully to the person on the other side of the line for a moment before turning to Tim. “What do you want?”

“Uh… shrimp fried rice?”

She rolled her eyes and flicked his nose. “Alright, fine, white boy.”

“It’s a safe option okay --!”

She wasn’t listening to him explain why fried rice was the best choice for him because she was relaying the order to the person on the other side of the line. She hung up with a smile.

“Food will be here in about three minutes. Do you rich people have small bills or do you just use them for tissues or something?”

He raised his eyebrows. “They go down to a hundred, right?”

She pressed her lips together thinly, clearly unsure whether or not he was joking.

He snickered and shook his head. “Nah, I think I have twenties and fifties…”

“Yeah, that won’t do. We’re going to get robbed,” she said, reaching into her purse.

“We? Didn’t know I lived here, too,” he joked.

She barely even glanced up from where she was counting money. “Honestly, with how often you’re here, you might as well move in.”

He choked. He wanted to say something smart or funny or smooth, instead all that came out was: “You --? I --? Uh --!”

She snickered behind her hand. “Love, relax, I’m just kidding. You don’t have to leave your fancy mansion with all your siblings --.”

“Wait, don’t make living here sound even better. I will do it purely to get away from them, don’t test me.”

She rolled her eyes with a grin. “Maybe that's the plan, you’ll never know.”

Tim had exactly zero idea whether they were joking or not anymore. The tone and reactions made him pretty sure they were kidding, but… what if they weren’t?

He was just gathering the courage to ask when the doorbell rang, pulling their attention to the food. She continued counting for a second before running to the door and swinging it open.

He walked up beside her awkwardly as she chatted politely to the guy to take the food inside. He knew, logically, that Marinette was actually way stronger than he was… but his stupid brain saw a thin, short woman in need of someone to help her carry things. So, he took it from the guy with a smile.

The delivery guy glanced Tim up and down before asking Marinette something. She laughed and gave a shrug. Tim did not know what was going on but he felt vaguely insulted.

He was definitely learning Mandarin after this.

The moment the door closed he whined about being insulted. She looked amused.

“You know what he said?”

“... no,” he admitted.

Her lips twitched.

“... you’re not going to tell me, are you?”

She snickered and leaned over the two bags of food in his hands. “So, you got the fried rice, right?”

“Mariiiiiiii.”

“Your food is going to get cold.”

“Beeeaaaan,” he complained.

She raised an eyebrow at him, a blush spreading across her face. “Bean?”

He grinned, feeling heat creep to his own cheeks. “I don’t know, I couldn’t think of anything for a nickname. First thing I thought of was coffee beans, so: Bean.”

“Wow, you’re such an addict,” she teased.

He continued pouting at her until she gave in.

She leaned forward to press a kiss to his nose. “He asked if you could use chopsticks or not so he could get you a fork if you couldn’t.”

He felt the blush on his face deepen. “Oh… I can’t.”

“That’s fine.” She grabbed a tote bag from the floor of her pantry and pulled out a set of plasticware.

He blinked. “... you keep plastic forks?”

She shrugged and tossed the bag back in her pantry. “Plastic forks, grocery bags, napkins, a few sets of chopsticks…”

“... why?”

“Some of us are minorities, darling.”

“What --?”

~

She hummed tunelessly as she worked.

Tim had fallen asleep on her shoulder. Had most of this been an elaborate plot to make him finally get some sleep? Possibly.

She didn’t feel all that bad, though. With how much he overworked himself both as Red Robin and as Tim Drake-Wayne… honestly, she was beginning to doubt that he slept at all. And, really, if a vigilante coffee addict with a magically enhanced physique is worried about your sleep schedule, you’ve got problems. Intervention was needed.

Don’t get her wrong, though, she was going to make up for lying to him. She’d move him to her bed and leave a cup of coffee for him on the bedside table. Maybe she’d even make him breakfast, it depended on how tired she was in the morning.

But that was for when she was done. For now, she was working on the last part of the outfit: she needed to lace up the corset. His posture needed a little work and she didn’t have the heart to tell him that to his face.

… besides, corset vests are cute. She wished more guys would wear them.

She smiled to herself as she pulled the last bit of lace through and tied a loose knot. Done.

She looked down at Tim. Loose strands fell in his face as he slept. The tiny wrinkles in his forehead disappeared, making him look much younger. His lips curled into a slight smile at whatever he was dreaming about.

He looked so genuinely at peace. She hated that that was abnormal for him.

She couldn’t help but worry a little about what he’d said earlier. He’d claimed that the reason he had gone up to the top of that building the day they’d met (as Tim and Marinette) was to scout out a location for photography, but now that was seeming like a lie because he apparently preferred taking pictures of people over locations… so, why was he up so high? He’d known it was illegal to be there, so she doubted he thought anyone else would be…

She swallowed thickly.

She didn’t think his mental state was that bad… but, just in case it was, she waved Tikki over for a bug and sewed it into one of his sleeves.

Tikki was looking at her disapprovingly. Marinette ignored her.

It was Ladybug’s job to make sure everyone was doing okay mentally, and she wasn’t going to fail a person she cared about of all people.

His head slipped from her shoulder onto her stomach and she sighed, trying to lightly push him off without disturbing his sleep. It didn’t work. He made a quiet sound in the back of his throat and buried his face in her stomach, his arms wrapping around her tightly.

Well, this is her life now.

… she supposed it wasn’t so bad, though.

[currentfandomkick]

Selina Steals a Bug from Batman to get her Kitten.

blame this post here for this thing's inspiration, and a friend for encouraging this.

--

             Selina paused when she saw ‘the lost Wayne’ news. She knew Bruce didn’t adopt another kid and forget to tell her—Dick kept her up-to-date on his new siblings and sent her pictures. No, her boyfriend Bruce Wayne would certainly not hide a new Wayne from her.

             He absolutely would forget to introduce her to a new family friend or potential bat. She was still upset about how long it took him to admit that little Stephanie had been working with his son for months and he hadn’t thought to invite the girl over for a meal or two when Selina was over. It wasn’t like she didn’t already know Tim was dating another vigilante… it was that one of her not-technically-my-sons was not introducing her to someone who had saved his life multiple times and who happened to be another Gotham vigilante and another addition to the batfam.

             Selina is their unofficial mother after all, she has rights. Any possible members of their little bat family, and she must assess them. at the very least, teach them more than just Bruce’s habits. The man was horrendous at showing his actual emotions, and the kids would need a counter example to that—herself obviously.

             So imagine Selina’s surprise when she decided to surprise her boyfriend and his children with a visit, only to find a young teen drinking out of Tim’s favorite mug, wearing one of Dick’s more infamous Nightwing hoodie’s, and looking at one of Damian’s katana’s carefully.

             “Who are you?” Selina had a feeling this was the latest “not a Wayne” and she would have to ensure her bats were safe from a fellow thief… again.

             The teen looked up, almost startled by her appearance and nearly dropping the katana.

             Selina raised an eyebrow.

             The teen flushed. “Marinette.”

             “And what,” Selina strolled over to the table and sat on its edge. “Exactly are you doing with all of these?”

             The girl was smart enough to look a bit embarrassed, she'd give her that much. Not without shame. Good.

             “Well, uh, kind of complicated, but, uh, the boys said that I couldn’t manage to grab their favorite things.”

             Selina looked the girl over. She was probably the new one to the group, the spotted French girl Jagged Stone mentioned in a few of his songs. She was young, and clearly good at getting what she wanted.

             “Where’s Jason’s?”

             “Uh, how did you…”

             “Answer the question.”

             “… behind the gardener’s shed. He really needs to stop leaving his keys in easy access pockets.”

             Selina nodded, looking over the girl. She was twisting a familiar looking ring… wasn’t that one of the Wayne family rings!?

             “How did you get that off Bruce?” Selina feigned nonchalance.  

             “… don’t judge me.”

             “Too late. Talk.”

             “Accidentally, I swear, just, he left the safe open and mid-terms stress and then…” the girl gestured helplessly.

             Selina could appreciate the honesty. She could also appreciate that the girl managed to get something off each boy.

             But now came the real test.

             “Kleptomaniac kind?”

             The girl flushed harder. “Yeah… I was going to return it, eventually… I think.”

             Selina looked over the girl once more, suddenly seeing an opportunity she should have taken back when she first saw Tim stalking her bats way back when. She could use her own mini.

             “How do you feel about cats?”

             Marinette shifted gears at that. “Real, memes, or Chat Noir?” Selina could feel there was a story there, one for another time. “If we’re talking real, they’re amazing, the memes are fun and Chat is…” the girl shook her head. “Complicated. And in London apparently, so he can’t judge me for my poor life choices.”

             Oh, Selina likes this one. “I’m guessing you’re Brucie’s latest pet project?”

             Marinette scrunched up her face at that. “I’m here to force a sense of fashion on this family if it kills me.”

             Selina smiled at that. “Oh, I do believe we’re going to get along wonderfully.” She extended her hand. “I go by Catwoman in the field.”

             Marinette paused for a moment before taking the extended hand with a grin of her own. “Ladybug—though we might want to go with something else for this... how do you feel about panjas bracelets?”

             Selina’s grin grew. “Oh, we’re going to get along perfectly.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

             In the Batcave there was a meeting being held by a distressed Nightwing, impatiently waiting for the others to finish arriving.

             “Batgirl?”

             “She’s not on tonight,” Red Robin answered, quietly sipping his espresso in one of his lesser mugs. It seems like his bean got to his favorite earlier…

             “Black Bat?” Nightwing asked Batman.

             “She’s running with the Birds of Prey tonight—Oracle’s idea.”

             Nightwing seemed to accept this. “I’ll just forward them the power point.”

             Red Robin groaned. “Another one?”

             Red Hood shook his head. “Blame B. He got it in Dickie’s head that this is how you explain things to people. Bullet points.”

             “No names in the field,” Robin snapped.

             “No names in the field,” Red Hood mocked under his breath.

             Robin glared at him for that.

             “It’s a very effective method.” Batman stated defensively.

             “Yeah, on the League,” Red Robin grumbled into his coffee. The Batfam is full of (not really) professional detectives—they are capable of understanding without the bullet points of doom. Mostly.

             “Then I’ll just get started, Agent A, Lights!”

             The batcave dimmed to show only the projection of a power point title slide ‘Marinette Cannot Meet Selina, Ever.’

             “What the hell is this?” whispered Red Hood.

             “I allowed you to delay patrol, for this?” Batman sighed.

             “Silence! Nightwing is speaking.”

             “Thank you Robin, now, Marinette is under no circumstances to meet Selina.”

             “Why doesn’t he have to use codenames?” Red Hood wondered aloud. Only to be kicked by an aggressive Robin. “Ow! What the hell demon spawn!”

             “Silence,” Robin hissed.

             “As I Was Saying,” Nightwing loudly began. “Marinette is not allowed to meet Selina. It would be a disaster for us all.”

             “Its not she’d adopt her like a certain someone is trying to,” Red Hood stated, pointedly ignoring Robin’s attempts to silence him with threats of violence.

             Nightwing changed the slide with a sigh. “Exhibit A: Marinette enjoys shiny things, and so does Selina.”

             The slide showed two pictures, one of Marinette in various miraculous while holding one of Damian’s daggers, and the other of Selina with a very large gemstone necklace.

“Exhibit B, they are both prone to theft.”

             The next slide showed Catwoman stealing a necklace from a museum, and Marinette in Batman’s cape while using Tim’s phone and wearing one of Jason’s leather jackets, Titus laying at her feet.

             “Marinette does not stop at shiny things, as we can expect of Selina,” Robin explained.

             “You’re just mad Pixie managed to get past your security.”

             Robin glared at Red Hood.

             “That doesn’t explain why bean shouldn’t meet Selina,” Red Robin said. “Hm, maybe I should change the bean blend again? not getting enough of a buzz.”

             Nightwing sighed, changing the slide again. “If the two meet, we lose all we hold dear.”

             This time the slide showed a photoshopped Marinette and Selina sitting on a pile of miscellaneous objects.

             Batman sighed, deciding his eldest was just being overdramatic again.

             “Mari will learn new tricks from Selina.” Nightwing stated slowly. “Tag team with Selina, maybe even be the Robin to her Batman.” That got the room’s attention, albeit not the kind Nightwing wanted. “It would not just be Mari’s minor thefts anymore.”

             Red Robin rolled his eyes while Red Hood snorted a “yeah right.”

             Robin looked nervously as Nightwing finished his powerpoint.

             “Mari would rule Gotham and no one, not even us, would be able to stop her.”

             Batman decided that they wasted enough time on Nightwing’s bout of paranoia. “I highly doubt Selina would corrupt her.”

             At that moment a beaming stripped heroine walked in, wearing a new string of necklaces, with Catwoman at her side with an amused look of her own.

             “How dare you try to hide a kitten from me.”

             Nightwing threw his hands up. “I told you!”

             Batman stared while Robin began checking their systems… no alarms had gone off anywhere and they all knew the pair had stolen the necklaces that Marinette was sporting.

             Nightwing was right.  

             “Holy shit is this really happening?” Red Robin half-whispered, looking back and forth between the pair and a shocked Batman. “Is Catmom pulling a Batdad?”

             Catwoman flashed a smile. “Since someone wouldn’t let me take any birdies, I decided to take a kitten of my own.”

             “Why didn’t you tell me I could have more moms here!” Marinette exclaimed.

             At the groups growing look of horror, Catwoman’s grin grew. “Oh, I forgot to mention, Harley and Ivy are back. They want joint custody. She’s the Marigold Harley’s been tweeting about.”

---

first thing i do after getting real internet back plus have the time to think, and its write and post this. hope you all enjoyed!

[danny-chase]

Big Brother instinct, Dick and either Cass, Gar, Danny Chase, Steph, Kara, Rose, or anyone else u want

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Batgirl (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dick Grayson & Cassandra Cain, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne Characters: Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Dick grayson centric, Fire, Burns, hair styling, Ice Cream, Hurt/Comfort, Late Nights, Fluff and Angst, Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Batfamily Dynamics (DCU), Missions Gone Wrong, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain is bad at feelings, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings Series: Part 11 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

Dick talks with Cass after a mission doesn't go as planned.

Fic under cut

“Argh!” Dick snaps back to attention as Bruce’s angry grunt rattles through the cave. The few bats still in for the night stir, their wings rustling in the distance. An avalanche of papers fly off of Bruce’s desk, and his grizzled form slumps forward, hands firmly planted on the table. His shoulders sag under some unknown strain; as if he’s carrying the weight of the sky.

“Hmm.” Dick blinks back another wave of exhaustion, he’s not working on a case – but Bruce is – and company always makes working more fun. Besides, Bruce is on a time limit and Alfred can’t stop him from escaping his room. So. Here he is. He took an oath - it’s his job to help.

Dick’s eleven and Bruce’s a pillar of reassurance – a precariously stacked pile of rocks constantly on the verge of crumbling. He has no idea how to pick up the pieces. No idea how to seal the cracks. “Bruce?” He mumbles, swinging his legs off his spinny chair. Bruce doesn’t look up, his mouth drawn in a tight line. The ghost of tears well in his eyes. Not good.

Dick scoots off the chair, lightheaded for a moment. He shakes the stars out of his eyes, nodding back and forth, up and down, like Bruce does when he’s sleepy. It’s late. He has school tomorrow. Not that it matters. Bruce will let him skip if he asks the right way. He jogs in place for a few seconds, readying himself, warming up his muscles.

There’s not much he can do to help, but he can at least put on a little show. He runs forward launching into a cartwheel, picking up the papers as he goes – Bruce likes his tricks, sometimes they even make him laugh, sometimes –

Bruce snags his ankle out of the air, his quick reflexes saving Dick from crashing into the edge of a counter. He finds himself hanging, the world stuck upside down as his hands dangle inches from the floor. “Thanks.” He looks up at Bruce’s weary face.

A yawn escapes his lips, and the corners of Bruce’s mouth twitch. “I’m going to have to child-proof the cave at this rate.” He tries for humor but it falls flat, his hearts not in it all.

He stares up, sticking his tongue out. Bruce’s frown doesn’t fade. “Are you okay?” He asks. Bruce’s hands fumble, and Dick swings dangerously low to the floor before he’s recovered. Not willing to take the chance again, he curls up, grabbing Bruce’s forearms and pulls himself up through his arms, settling himself on sturdy shoulders.

Bruce drops his feet. “I’m fine. Why would ask that?” He sounds almost hurt and Dick’s too tired to figure out why.

He slides down easily, Bruce gently deposits him on the floor. “You looked sad.” A yawn leaves his mouth without permission, he stumbles slightly, and a hand clamps down on his shoulder. He reaches back up, and Bruce throws him up against his shoulder, wrapping him in a hug.

Dick yawns contently, his eyelids fluttering without his permission, as Bruce starts walking towards the stairs. “I’m sorry…” The arm around his back pulls him a bit tighter. “I’m just not enough.” A shaking hand combs through his hair and Dick squeezes back because he doesn’t know what to say.

Bruce grunts as he takes a step up the stairs. “Sleep on it?” Dick suggests, resting his eyes for just a moment.

“Mmhmm. It’s bedtime.” Dick’s half asleep by the time they reach the top. He’s not sure he hears Bruce whisper, “You’re a great kid, chum.”

It took Dick years before he really understood the feeling. And even more years before he made the connection that that was how Bruce had felt on late nights spent scouring for clues that just didn’t seem to exist, having worked for days straight on three hours of sleep, and watching Gotham send all of it up in flames setting you back months on an investigation.

He’s learned there’s nights it’s impossible to save everyone – hell, he’s seen Clark get his ass kicked, and Clark’s damn near close to god. Dick would know – the Titans have fought their namesake. But the Titans have fought humans and lost despite half their members being godlike, and besides that most days now he’s alone. It doesn’t matter how hard he tries, how much he plans, how prepared he is; sometimes things just go to hell and a handbasket and there’s nothing he can physically do to prevent it.

Most of the time, he’s fine with that. It’s fine he has limits. Logically, he knows he can’t be expected to everything. Logically, he knows it’s a waste of time to worry about it. Logically, he knows it’s okay to take a night off, watch a nature documentary, invite a friend over, stay in and spend the night simply existing.

But it feels like he could be doing more – should be doing more. He feels that restlessness overtake him, and springs to his feet “Bruce I-”

Bruce gives him his patented bat-glare from where he’s sitting, looking up from a familiar pile of papers. Once it would have intimidated him into sitting back down. Now he just returns it with a patented one of his own. “-I think I’ll suit up and head out for the night, Tim could probably use some back up with-”

“Dick.” There’s this exasperated tone that Bruce can only ever seem to muster when saying his name. He pauses for a just a second, his eyes flickering down to Bruce’s clenched fists and tight shoulders. “Let me handle it.” It comes out as an order, but reading between the lines, it’s a plea.

Bruce would never admit it out loud, worry practically bleeds out of the man. Guilt gnaws on the inside of his chest, though, he’s not sure what it’s even from; the guilt of making Bruce worry or the guilt of being a useless sack of broken and bruised ribs while people need Nightwing’s help. Being benched sucks, but he knows enough to compromise. “Let me run the comms? Babs could use a night off.” She sleeps less than him and Bruce knows it.

The gray streaks in Bruce’s hair stand out all the more as he lets out a bone deep sigh. Dick rolls his eyes – he doesn’t get to do this right now. “You literally let me go out last night I don’t understand why-”

“Last night was an emergency. I didn’t have a choice.” His frown widens, his face etched in an eternal look of pain, mixed with disproval. “Two nights ago… you almost…” His mouth seals itself shut, unspoken words hanging in the air between them. It’s Bruce that breaks the gaze first. “Run the comms, don’t overexert yourself. It should be a quiet night…” He stands, hesitates before walking off “And get to bed early.”

Dick bites back a laugh, Bruce hasn’t talked to him like that since he was thirteen. “Alright.” He resists the urge to poke fun, and follows Bruce through the passage behind the grandfather clock.

“So Ives was talking about the Pirates of the Caribbean movie with me the other day, and we might go see it this weekend if I have the time. Gee- I can’t remember the last time I saw movie in theaters or even really hung out with him.” Tim’s endless chatter helps him stay awake in the dimly lit cave. His throbbing ribs help too, maybe he shouldn’t have tried doing push-ups. “Dad and Dana want to drop me off, but Ives has a car now, though dad’s still worried cuz of the time some wacko tried to stop us at a traffic light.”

Dick hums, a smile creeping its way up his face. “I can drop you off if it’s an issue.”

“Really?! That’d be awesome, you could stay for the movie if you wanted to, but I don’t know if you’d like it, I mean are pirates really your thing? I always figured you’d be more into Vikings or probably aliens actually, or something like-” A red light flashes on the screen, and Dick snaps to attention.

“Hold that thought.” Tim’s chatter ceases immediately as Dick furiously types on the terminal. He punches into the main line. “Batgirl how fast can you get to the corner of 16th and Murphy’s Ave, there’s a building on fire and you’re the only one anywhere near the Upper East Side.” A 911 operator calms down a hysterical woman in his left ear, Cass asking direction in the right.

He pulls up a map. “I-I can’t find a way out!” The woman shrieks. “I don’t know what happened, I was sleeping and-” she breaks off into raspy hacks.

“Go straight, turn right after three blocks down.” Dick winces, as the lady continues chocking on smoke. “C’mon Cass. Get there.” He mutters off the line. He eyes his cycle sitting idly in the bay – he’s twenty minutes out; Cass needs backup. He opens up another line. “Batman I need you to follow Batgirl, what’s your eta?”

Bruce grunts back, he hears thudding over the line. “Fifteen minutes.” The woman screams in his other ear, he yanks the earbud out as a massive bang nearly blows out his eardrum. Picking it back up, he can’t hear the woman anymore, only the roar of flames and falling debris.

“Shit.” He pulls up video from a street camera. “Shit.” The building’s collapsing in on itself. “Permission to call the league?” He clicks through to their line of communications, his finger hovering over the button.

“Here.” Cass scrambles into view, bursting through a window. Shit.

Bruce learned his limits long ago. Dick’s finally settling into his. Cass? They simply don’t register on her radar. The buildings coming down in mere minutes; she’s going to get killed.

“What’s the situation?” Bruce yells in his ear.

“Batgirl get out of there!” He screams at Cass. She’s going to die – the building’s not stable, and he’s the one that sent her there. “Make it five minutes – the building’s coming down.” He yells to Bruce. “Batgirl!” He watches a few windows blow out. A firetruck careens down the street.

“Permission granted.” Bruce huffs and Dick can’t click the button fast enough.

A couple more windows blow out, and the building seems to lean to the side. Finally he sees Cass climb back out a window, holding a couple kids in her arms as she leaps to the ground. “BATGIRL GET THEM CLEAR!” His heart pounds in his throat as she runs forwards, the building groaning behind her, crumbling to the side. Chaos erupts, chunks of flaming debris cascading from the top of the building, as the second floor merges with the first.

Dick blinks, his mouth dry. “There’s more people-” he can’t hear Cass over the ensuing cacophony as he watches the building topple to the ground. “NO!” He faintly hears her scream as the screen erupts in static.

Dick slams his fists on the desk. His chest constricts painfully. “Nightwing. Report.” Bruce’s steady voice reminds him to breathe. His chest spasms. Shit. “Nightwing!” Bruce demands as he tries to catch his breath.

“Building collapsed.” He manages to get out. “One sec.” He takes a few deep breaths, leaning back in the chair for support. “Batgirl report.” He’s greeted with silence. “Batgirl, please, if you’re there I need you to respond.”

“I…” Cass trials off. Dick sighs in relief. “I’m sorry.” The line cuts off. Well. Shit.

“Nightwing! I’m headed to the location.” Bruce squawks. Dick sighs.

“It’s going to be a long night. Search and rescue, I’ll call in backup.” Shit. So much for an early bedtime.

“Hey.” Someone shakes his shoulder. He makes a grab for their wrist and misses, his mind processing where the hell he is. He blinks a few times.

“Cass?” Her hair’s plastered to the side of her head and she’s covered in soot. Nicks, rips, and tears decorate her costume. Dick wipes his eyes as the ashy smell of smoke overwhelms his senses. Cass takes a few steps back, heading towards the locker room. “Wait.” He had something to say to her, his mind racing to catch up.

She hops up onto a counter. His mind shuffles through the events earlier in the night. “Bruce sent you back?” Cass nods glumly. The rescue efforts weren’t going well when he dozed off. The JLA sent in everyone they could spare; there’s nothing they can do anymore. Not that Bruce won’t try.

Cass’s lips are sealed. There’s a haunting expression in her eyes, her shoulders slump forward, her hands firmly plant themselves on the counter for support.

And his friends think he’s too much like Bruce.

“Hey.” He starts. She gives him a weary look, tears welling in her eyes. Well, maybe not exactly like Bruce. “Look, I’m sorry I put you in that position.” Cass shakes her head. “Sometimes things like this happen. I should have-”

“Stop.” Cass pulls her feet up on the counter, getting dust everywhere. “I should have been faster.” She swallows, refusing to let the tears spill over. “My fault.”

Dick watches as she glides off the counter, yanking off her gloves and dropping them on the floor. Burn marks dot her hands and the edges of her hair are singed. “You did everything you could.” She hesitates, before taking a step towards the showers.

“Not enough.” She mutters before storming off, leaving a trail of soot in her wake.

He stands up. “Cass.” The lock snaps shut with a click as she slips into the bathroom. Leaving Dick in an empty cave once more.

By the time he returns downstairs, Cass is already out of the shower, looking displeased. “You took my clothes.” She notes unhappily, a pale pink towel tucked tightly around her shoulders.

Dick watches water drip down from her hair, pattering on the floor. The trail leading back to the bathroom is now mixed with water and soot. Alfred’s going to be pissed. “I took your costume.” He clarifies. “And I brought you clothes.” He gestures towards the open door.

Cass scowls, planting her feet defiantly. “I’m going out.” She reaches out a hand. Dick shrugs – there’s no way she can find where he hid her filthy suit before they get a chance to wash it.

It’s all too familiar, reading the lines across her brow, watching her shoulders slump when she stills, and scanning red rimmed eyes. “What are you going to do like that?” He points out, Cass angrily storming towards him. “You’re tired, you’ll just end up being in the way.” He dodges left as a fist flies past his face. “You would have hit if I wasn’t right.” She’s faster than him on his best days.

She glares at him with pursed lips, staring before turning on her heel and storming off towards the bathroom. The door slams behind her, triggering the rustling of far away wings.

Dick sighs – he hopes he wasn’t this temperamental when he lived with Bruce. “Come up to the kitchen when you’re done, I need your help with something.” The lie rolls easily off his tongue, though he feels a twinge of guilt as Cass groans behind closed doors.

Cass’s eyes widen as she enters the room. Dick offers a smile as she edges closer to the table. He tosses a spoon, she snags it out of the air. “Dig in.” There’s a carton of chocolate ice cream – double chocolate chunk brownie sundae with hot fudge and chocolate sprinkles to be precise – and tons of candy. It’s not stuff Bruce keeps around, but Dick’s has a stash at Tim’s house reserved for movie nights. He’ll restock later.

Cass vigorously stabs the ice cream with her spoon, a smile dancing across her face as she takes a few bites. She pauses, sticking the spoon back in the cartoon, looking up with a confused expression. “Why?” She’s wearing fluffy pajama bottoms, fuzzy socks, and an old worn college sweatshirt that’s frayed at the hems. Dick can almost pretend he’s back, talking to Donna after she broke up with Roy their sophomore year of high school.

She’s watching Dick carefully. He hums casually. “You had a rough night.” This is what the Titans always did. She shrugs.

“Things happen.” She shovels a few more bites into her mouth. “I want to go out.” It’s hard for Dick to find her tough and grizzled when she’s guzzling gummi worms, kicking her feet back and forth on the stool.

“Consider this a reason to stay in.” She gives him a sideways glance. “You did as much as you can, that’s enough.” Cass looks pointedly at her ice cream, not hesitating before diving back into it.

“Spar with me?” She licks a skittle before sticking it in her mouth.

Dick snorts. “If I don’t have a heart attack, I think Bruce would.” She snaps up to attention, grabbing his wrist and quickly finding his pulse point. “I’m fine, Cass.” Her hands are freezing. He places one of his on top of hers. “If you weren’t there I wouldn’t have been.” He says quietly, catching her eye. “Thank you.” She pulls back as if burned, quickly busying herself with the candy. He waits a moment before adding, “I think those kids you saved are grateful too.”

Cass throws a bag of M&M’s at him, he’s a second too slow and it pelts him in the face. “Noted.” He grins. “Uh, also, I’m going to have to do something with your hair.”

“What.”

“Cass, hold still.” She immediately stops squirming under his hands. “Thanks.” She hums back, tucked under an old blanket that never seems to leave the back of the couch. Bruce still isn’t here, but Tim checked in after his stakeout, and headed home a half an hour ago. He snips away another lock of burnt hair, tossing it into a trash can next to him.

He rests his forearms on the back of the sofa, contemplating which section of her hair to start with next. “You find one you like yet?” He asks, peeking over her shoulder at the images of hairstyles.

“Uhh.” She scrolls a bit more. “I don’t care.” She tosses the phone up to the top of the couch.

“Mmm.” He didn’t expect much else. Donna texted him a picture earlier to copy – something easy to pull back but still stylish. He attacks the next section, carefully brushing out the tangles, starting bottom to the top. He’s oddly grateful for all those times he did Donna and Kory’s hair.

‘Practice for when Bruce finally adopts a girl.’ They used to tease. ‘You’ll have a real sister, and if his track record holds she’ll have black hair and blue eyes.’ He’s never lived the irony down. Though, Cass’s eyes are a beautiful warm brown, so Donna and Kory can take that.

“You know.” He keeps his tone light. “Most hairdressers and their clients talk.” Cass remains set in stony silence. “Though I guess most people go to a salon to get their hair cut.” He just visits Joey. “Some people say it’s like free therapy.”

“You talk a lot.” Cass notes. He pulls up doodle jump on his phone and passes it back to her. She plays a couple rounds before the phone’s placed back beside him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He already knows the answer, but still asks all the same.

“No.” Bruce never wanted to either. Barbara used to talk to him… before he left for the Titans and took years to look back. Though he likes to dream otherwise, he knows there’ll come a day when Tim won’t want to talk to him anymore either.

It doesn’t get any easier being shut out. “That’s alright. If you change your mind I’m here.” He grabs the shears, snipping away another dead end.

“Thanks.”

“Dick.” A hiss awakes him, light following soon after. He squints, turning away to bury his face in a cushion. “Where’s Cassandra?”

He turns, eyes snapping open as he quickly scans the sofa. The blanket hangs off the edge, Cass nowhere to be seen. One of her custom batarangs sticks out of his armchair’s armrest, a few inches from his hand. “She must have found her costume.” He notes, glancing towards the pajamas crumpled in the doorway. His eyes meet Bruce’s as he lets out a tired sigh.

His hair’s dripping, fresh from a shower, and it’s singed at the edges. Dick nods towards the sheers on the coffee table. “Tomorrow.” Bruce decides, crossing the room, picking up the blanket as he goes. Dick pushes down the footrest, slowly rising to his feet. His ribs twinge at every move, in hindsight, falling asleep hanging off the side of an armchair wasn’t his best idea. Bruce hovers closer than normal, watching carefully, worry lines set in concern. “Bed.”

Dick’s too tired to argue. “Bed.” He agrees. And though Bruce doesn’t carry him, he accompanies him up the stairs.